Profit

Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah

I got my buddies on the corner, in the back of the club with a sack

And they rolling up a jointer, smoking that country stash

You ain’t never seen a bull rider bumping UGK

Nah homie, you ain’t never seen that

Fuck it, pete

Like a bucket seat

Hip hop make em all lean back

Make a ping pong ball jealous of the bounce

Chevrolet sitting tall like a cloud

Yeah, pick another trailer park girl up

Dirty blonde digger, ding dong, get out

Yeah, Imma let the lid out, fuck puffing in this jar, lightning bug

Southern hospitality, but I hospitalize you cause I’m nice enough

To spot a punk like a homophobic

I’m on it, my opponents know it

Get your money up D-boy

I ain’t a D-boy, but my folks they grow it

Done clipped the bud and done sold it

I been sipping Bud, you ain’t noticed?

I’m in the bible belt like a church, in the lobby

Where they offering trade for that profit

Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah

Let me get started

Targeting artists, ain’t no dodging em, lodging them

Cause they fraudulous, yeah, my ho might been sporting shit

No tours and shit, no super Nintendo, but I got cartridges

Cartman shit, working my big old tool like I know carpentry

Pardon me it’s the, nigga you know me, the hottest commodity

Probably catch me posted at penny province in poverty

Cause they copping it, stopping me, nope

No copping me, nope

P O T B E L L, why the hell they riding my tail?

I’ll slow it down a minute (what?)

Cause I ain’t been around a minute

These niggas feeling themselves cause I let em borrow the crown a minute

And I'll admit I get beside myself sometimes

Only cause I know I got dope rhymes

And my punch lines will fuck wit yo mind

I’m bucking, bout my

Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah

I am a real Slumerican

Told Yelawolf he can swear me in

I got a heavy double barrel in my box Chevy

When my album drop, everybody scared again

And I’m prepared to win at all costs

Y’all talk a lot of shit, tryna tear my skin

And rumor has it I’m crazy, I need to see a therapist

Well if the shoe fits, fuck it Imma wear it then

Cause I’m a go getter, I would swear for ten

I’m bout to turn up like a sombrero rim

I'm kinda like a modern day Larry Flynn

It’s Slum shit, baby fuck Katy Perry fans

I rep Atlanta, I ain’t never been to Paris, France

I switch lanes, crossing over like I’m Jeremy Lin

You can't admire me, don’t let me catch you staring pimp

I’m like a great white shark in this aquarium

When I was young, I knew kids out caroling

Around the holidays, they were pistol carrying

In the spare, getting paper was imperative

Reaching in my pocket, only thing there was lint

Well I compare with then, don’t want to spare a cent

We suited up in all black, in a pair of tens

I ran up in a local baller's house, I lay it down

Motherfucker, show me where it is

I’m bout to take that profit

Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit)

Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah