Lyrics of 'Out Of Control' by Yelawolf
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Out Of Control is a song by Yelawolf whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.
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My trucks so clean, you can lick the white walls and drink the gasoline
My pockets so deep I can eat mcdonalds 5 days of the week
I got so much soul the devil is jealous, wanna be down with the king
I'm off the ground I float like a jet of propellers, a vietnam machine
Speaking of vietnam I'm in this beat like a heater in vietcong
When I spit with the kerosine
Preaching of see 'em wrong, ravish piece I retrieve 'em and lead 'em wrong with this gift of a chevy dream
Back in the streets like a dealer to feed 'em songs, I blend in with everything
I'm too rock for hip-hop
Too hip-hop for rock n' roll
I'm too city for rednecks
And I'm too country for city folks
But I don't give a fuck what they want from me
I can only give 'em what I know
I guess you can just call it
Out of motherfucking control
I get so drunk I lean against walls when there is no wall
My team is so rowdy they throwin' up the rebel flag when there is no cause
The south is still dirty, my chevy parts are clapping, I need no applause
Roll up like a tornado windpark, 50 seat with nothing but hogs
I grew up on zz-top when mama was bar-hoping for easy jobs, I'm set with a tv nod
I grew up in need of pop when mama was star-shopping for iggy pop's, I happily needed not
They grew up a few easy crops and mama was more popping when [?] I sat with the pd cops
I knew it was either rock and if wanted more options for me to block I happened to see hip hop
Give a fuck if you understand it, how would I expect you to, I barely comprehend it
How I ended up standing with shady, shaking hands with 50 like it was planned for me maybe
I'm a juxtaposition the position of musical composition
I'm america's sweat stain, what's left in the kitchen
Take the garbage out with the beggers and jump in the fucking bag
Digging for hand-me-down's, like I forgot what I have
Nobody told me how to do me, it just is
An evolution of rap and rock 'n' roll mixed with
Country-ass memphis, tennessee hillbillies
Tobacco spitting white kid listen with intent
Metallica, triplesix, outkast, johnny cash
Deadhead hippie shit
I`m greatful these hippie kids are able to witness it
Benefit from the pen, ye, I begin
Thank you, eminem, there it is
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