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letra de mastermind - yelawolf & dj paul

[verse 1]
look at my name up under the marquee
and throw up in your lap b-tch
still a renegade
still up in the chevrolet
sippin 7 with the lemonade, b-tch
i’m a moonwalker
star lit like a car sits in the dark when you have parked it like a nude stalker
catfish billy
i’m the king of the lowlifes
show up at the show with a bunch of rich folks like i’d like to have ran into a light pole right before they walked in
car crashed and then bar dashed in a hertz rental with a fat lip like burt reynolds moustache
we drink it up
f-ck that we drank it up then tear it down
crank it up like a pro hound that’s beat up and doo-doo brown
(doo-doo brown?)
yea doo-doo brown
tell that fat b-tch take a doo-doo now
cause i got that sh-t
yelawolf up in this motherf-cker with voodoo now
i’m a mastermind

[hook]
(mastermind)
everything i touch either gets hated or they receive it as
(mastermind)
everything i do either gets bit by these heathens or even it’s ripped by the seams when i conceive it
(mastermind)
everything i touch either gets hated or they receive it as
(mastermind)
my enemies grieve every time i speak in his mind like a priest in the sky i believe it i’m a
(mastermind)

[verse 2]
with a colgate white smile
brush my t–th with propane and blow fire from the t–th of a white child
you motherf-ckers better pipe down like you’ve been caught smokin bogues
slumericans all around me and we’ve been talkin cold yea
(s)but a state if mind when you’re rollin up a
(l) it ain’t me and nas
who howl and yell about (u)
thank god for shady i gotta give it up to (m)
with out him i wouldn’t know what the f-ck i would be (e)
stuck in the south with no c-a-(r)
the rest of this sh-t is kinda cliche (i c-a-n) laddy daddy
yes i can (alabama)
yes i am
grew up in the south gettin popped in the mouth if you didn’t say sir yes and said ma’am
so i got slapped half the time
that why when i write about the blues then my childhood takes up half the rhyme
yea i’m a psychopath sometimes a mastermind

[hook]

[verse 3]
b-tch, better put your dukes up
i ain’t got time for these vampires
throw ’em in the fire cause i am that true blood
i’m an angel untangled by the web of a black widow
so sick that i leave a tree standing up straight
leaned down like a weeping willow
deep in a pillow, dreaming, sleep walking
not one motherf-cker in the game ready for the science
i am stephen hawking
fat b-tch in the front row
dry heave and coughing
get these hoes some h2o before i get fee’d for -ssaulting
blood i see it often
suds in the bottom of a jug
left so many duds in the club beat up and crawling
i could’ve got rich in a t–th auction
on stage like a priest talking
and there will be none after mine
son of a b-tch and the father of a church
similar to jesus when he found miss magdalene
mastermind

- yelawolf dj paul

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