Way Out lyrics

[Chorus]
Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out
Drunk as a fool, throwing that Jim Beam back until I’m laid out
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out
Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now
Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up they telling me “turn it way down”
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out

[Verse 1]
Yeah, intergalactic, out of my mind and into traffic
In a pair of Converse, tryna' climb Mount Everest with nothin' in my backpack
It’s me: A son of a b*tch, a child of a prick
A stepson you don’t wanna hit
Ooo wee, no, not him, not Lil Wayne, Michael Wayne
Who you thought it would be?
Damn right, and I’m on a tightrope
Screaming out loud, "b*tch, f*ck my life!"
I ain’t never give a f*ck, I could never give a f*ck now
So put the chain on my bike, yeah
Throw that b*tch back on the sprocket, give me the pistol before you c*ck it
Let me throw a bullet in the clip for luck, for us
Poor us, yeah popping these, shocking, ain’t it mane?
Well, I guess nobody wants to be broke, right? Black or white
Paint the frame
‘Cause I’m only used to refusing the stereotypes of a name
I ain’t a name; I’m a soul, I’m a piece of gold
I’m a pro, I’m a piece of sh*t too
Do what I gotta do if I gotta roll, Guess what?
I’mma roll all over you, when I’m riding
[Chorus]
Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out
Drunk as a fool, throwing that Jim Beam back until I’m laid out
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out
Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now
Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up they telling me “turn it way down”
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out

[Verse 2]
Used to watch my beeper chirp, blue di*kies and a black Raiders Shirt
My world was a little-bitty spot in the universe outside of Earth
Tennessee bound, Alabama born, I came down in a meteor storm
Media wrong, media write, right ‘em a wrong, ring the alarm
Duck under your desk, children go, this building is about to blow
I don’t know what I’mma do with this feeling inside of my mind and soul
I’m a one-in-a-million human show
Should've been the motherf*cking Truman Show
But if you seen me getting raped as a child
You probably wouldn’t give me room to grow
Heavy blow, take a heavy sigh
Like a runner on the daily, he's high, oh my
We’ll be good, baby boy, don’t cry
I can make a boat with a book of rhymes
God made me the Cherokee like no
I can’t let the world off the hook this time
And if you didn’t want this Catfish sh*t
Then b*tch, you should've never shook that line
Readied that hook, took this time, to press play then rewind
I would rather be drunk than be blind
To the space-age pimp sh*t that I combine
With what I know, rock-and-roll
I’m so famous, Country Fresh
That I can’t take one step in the f*ckin’ street when I’m in public
So I get in them...
[Chorus]
Cinnamon seats, bass boat flakes, yeah, sprayed out
Drunk as a fool, throwing that Jim Beam back until I’m laid out
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out
Rolling country side anywhere that I go, hey now
Trunk on 'quake, cops pulling up they telling me “turn it way down”
Homie, I’m on my Catfish Billy sh*t, I’m talking way out
Dude, I’m way out, I’m talking way out