[Intro]
Hey yo Rob give the lil' n***a the ball back

[Intro: Yelawolf]
Never get you ball back, fuck 'em all
Just facts and never get your ball back
Never get you ball back, get your ball back (Let the BandPlay)
Just facts and never get your ball back

[Verse 1: Cub da CookUpBoss]
Cliff n***a come outside in all red n***a
Fuck with me you dead, you heard what I said
I'm a boss, I hear them haters hollerin' "Mr. Cook Up"
Give me 20 minutes I could cook a whole brick up
You know the jewelry in my outfit
You know the n***as ain't about shit
I go hard on a bitch if she upset
And I'ma drop that ho off if she don't suck dick
I'm certain, my whip game pitiful
To get like me it'll take you a miracle
I'm certain, my whip game pitiful
To get like me it would take you a miracle

[Verse 2: Yelawolf]
Don't worry 'bout the clause, just worry 'bout the sauce
Bitch, I'm the Lebron James you Stephan Curry with the ball
Yeah, that's some okay play but I'm legendary
I'll put you straight into a coughin' fit, call me pepper spray
Okay, I'ma walk' through the hood with a vault full of goods
Profited off my profit because I saw that shit
Choppin' the wood, burst your bubble
Poppin' the suds, and let the white 2Pac in the club
Say my name I stop and I shrug, for the camera mean mug
(Hello)
Homie you gon' need to think shrink
My hypnosis got you bitch off in a pink meat
Tryna get this dick of mine is like clink-clink
Locked up with these bars, I should have been police, or warden
But I'll just take awards and the Fords man you can crash 'em
New Chevy's now I can afford them
Fight music like the accordion
You wanna juke the box, bitch put the quarter in because
[Chours: Yelawolf]
I walk around, I don't need no hall pass
Ya'll bitches cryin', I won't even ball back
Stay on my grind like we stackin' tall bags
Gettin' mine and ya never get your ball back
Never get you ball back, fuck 'em all thats
Just facts and ya never get your ball back
Never get your ball back, get ya ball back
Just facts and ya never get your ball back
(Church)

[Verse 3: Upchurch]
I'm that tailgater native with banjos and cadence
Sweat, blood, and tears is my favorite fragrance
'Cause it smells like when I shit on my haters
Fuck 'em
They can get the black smoke 7.3 Powerstroke
I pull albums out my ass like that thing haulin' my boat
Run a beat like a jetski makin' waves
Takin' names, makin' flames
Silverado tunes way back in the day
Clint Black just like the ray
And I'm floodin' the place no O2 tank
No fishin' bait 'cause I bait the fish
That bobber bobbin' 'til the cadence hit
While a frog ribbits to me, spittin' shit
I'm slicker than wet roads, everybody's gasket leakin'
Pullover and get the big four, public cameras creepin'
To my woods 'cause I guess they heard a country rappers out here beefin'
Every time somebody ticks me off I'm steppin' into that Slim Jim
Church
[Chorus: Yelawolf]
I walk around, I don't need no hall pass
Ya'll bitches cryin', I won't even ball back
Stay on my grind like we stackin' tall bags
Gettin' mine, ya never get your ball back
Never get you ball back, fuck 'em all thats
Just facts and ya never get your ball back
Never get your ball back, get ya ball back
Just facts and ya never get your ball back

I walk around, I don't need no hall pass
Ya'll bitches cryin', I won't even ball back
Stay on my grind like we stackin' tall rags
Gettin' mine and never get your ball back