Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fiddle Me This, artist - Yelawolf. Album song Love Story, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.04.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Interscope
Song language: English
Fiddle Me This |
Before I say goodbye I’d like to say good day |
And I hope you say «good buy"when they ask was it worth for you to pay |
For my music, for pressin' play |
For all the stress that went into my songs |
My love and hate |
The most honest I could be with you to date |
Is to say thank thank you Shady |
For lettin' me be me with no holds barred |
Thank you for the chance to enhance this old car |
This old jar of moonshine is but two lines on a blank sheet but so far |
These two lines point directed to my home on the mothership sonar |
Valet UFOs, I go park |
The dirty south needs a soap bar |
In the mouth of these MCs but |
But who am I to judge on what they love? |
I guess they enjoy being broke and co-stars |
And I’m soakin' so hard |
From the sweat that I could take my clothes off |
I done fucked and raped the whole yard |
Should sit back and shake the gold off |
But I’m already gone |
I got a vision like Teller, sons |
In an envelope like letters |
Lettuce, green, money, long |
Wolfpacks in a calzone |
I’ll keep makin' these albums |
Yeah you might have heard a dial tone |
But I was on the other line when I hung up the phone |
I’ll send a postcard when I leave |
I think about you when I dream |
And when I’m up under the high beams |
I reflect that shining |
So you can feel the heat of light |
A life of violence 'til I die in |
Yeah I’ve done come a long way |
From Dixie Land, take my hand |
I’m talkin' lowriders, 77 Devilles |
L-Dogs, nothin' but them 'Lacs |
Sittin' on boxes in the front yard of the trailer park |
Hell, one time for the single wides and the little cribs |
Two times if you know what it’s like to fuckin' live |
Three times in a row you’ve been late on the rent |
Four times before you did the same old shit |
Baby done grown up, workin' that bid like a grown up |
Fuckin' toned up, let the Glock talk, I’ma gon' hush |
Just like daddy taught me, wait I didn’t have one |
Fuck it, I’m happy for him, cause he got a bad one |
I popped outta that Easy Bake, land of the 'Bama, clean and safe |
Dropped outta high school, reason, hey, I’m already high from a seedless eighth |
And they wonder why I speak this way |
And ye ain’t ever seen this place |
Well here’s your American pie |
It’s a Dixie piece of cake |