Uncle Otis lyrics

by

Yelawolf


[Intro]
This sh*t for my Uncle Otis

[Verse 1]
Uh, here's a dome shot to this n*gga named Otis
n*ggas think they the coldest but n*gga you just the oldest
n*ggas be chasing they youth, but it's gone
Yo, 'Ye, this n*gga didn't even want to put you on
Them he turned around, put on Sean
But forgot to tell him Beni Han-Han don't sell no f*ckin' wontons
I don't wear Sean John, but f*ck with that Cîroc sh*t
2Pac back, well, hit 'em up with some Pac sh*t
(Who run the world?) Jayceon
Yeah, with Kelly Rowland, come and be my motivation
If you invented swag, then I invented gangsta
Got one in the chamber; the throne is now in danger
And I don't wear no Gucci Gucci Fendi Fendi Prada
I'm Charles Louboutin, you n*ggas ain't saying nada
Lil white b*tch, better stay in your place
You call me a n*gga, I'ma put the K in your face
This a stick up b*tch

[Hook]
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it, I do it, boy
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it (I called Khaled, tell 'em "f*ck it, I'm on one")
[Verse 2]
I created Tyler, the Creator
Here go courtside seats, you are now watching the greatest
Shades blocking the haters, stays rocking the latest
The show goes on 'til I start aiming the lasers
And Lupe'll soufflé half you motherf*ckers
This the Drew League, I don't wanna speak about The Rucker
Cause Jennifer Lopez just got a divorce
And I already got her up in the Porsche
Tryna teach you how to love
How to love
Marc Anthony too short (b*tch!) look how that n*gga look
Man, I'm 6 foot, 7 foot, 8 foot
Crooks and castles, all my n*ggas crooks with castles
Red Nation graduation, yeah, crooks with tassels
It's a party, it's a party, it's a party
Sitting up in Marvin's Room, blowing that Marley
You wanna hit it

[Hook]
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it, I do it, boy
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it
[Verse 3]
I got the money, up in the rubber band
Don't run up on me, try to take it from me, boom
I ain't Morris Chestnut, I ain't Ricky
But I'll give you 9 shots, you can call it 50
Dre got that super bass, I just call it Nicki
Working on that Detox, blowing on that sticky
Can I hit it in the morning? Bet it be a quickie
Gotta hustle hard, Ace, Tunechi and Ricky
Waves Frank Ocean, you could see my odd future
You gonna need more than Novocain after I shoot you
Yesterday I went to Coachella, not to see Jigga
I went to see Wiz, but there's Amber: perfect
I took a seat on the red futon
Hit it with that Wiz sh*t on, whatever
So put that pus*y on my face
And let me taste a little taste
I'ma eat it up like it's my last
I'ma, I'ma do it different, she ain't getting no cash
You know why? I'm not a star, somebody lied
I got a chopper in the car (Huh) that ain't a lie, n*gga

[Hook]
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it, I do it, boy
So put your hands up in the air
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna
I just wanna know is any gangstas up in here
I do it
[Outro]
Nah, I ain't think so
Uncle Otis, holler at me!
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