[Intro]
(Catfish)
Hi kids! (Come out and play)
Do you like Primus? (Catfish)

[Verse 1]
I was gonna do one of those kind of freestyles
You know the jack for beat shit
Practical rapper's speed dial
Automatic attention
And sniff out an MP3 file, murder it
Throw a dead body at your feet and say, “ See how?”
But then I thought, hey, what the fuck is the use?
I got drunk and listened to Primus, then took it into the stu
I looped it up for a minute then grabbed the pen
And began and these menacing mental sentences started syllable groups
That’s over the top, I’m too explanatory
But my catalog of music is well, mandatory
Wanna appreciate what I made on that Love Story?
Look at my history and the history of recording because

[Hook 1]
I popped out the wood like a pine cone
Dropped in that Alabama time zone
Popped the shotgun then a microphone
Oops, pop the trunk, now your mind's blown
[Verse 2]
To understand who I was before hip-hop
You gotta picture this little bitty ass idiot
Running ‘round with a hideous group of sinning, oblivious
Hicks smokin’ a roach and then sniffing gas out of Hemis
With garden hoses
Poking holes into my old jeans
One of those nightmarish, impossible teens
But I was a young prophet to be seen
Listenin' to some Skynyrd, then Ozzy, then Billie Jean, hmm
Somebody should have seen my great escape
Cause I went from pressing my troubles to pressing play on a tape
My appetite for destruction was pushing me to my fate
And then The Beastie Boys put me up on that 808

[Hook 2]
It's over with, I'm a vocalist, I can fucking see it
Two thousand people in front of me singing what I'm singing
This redneck, slum shit, mixed with this shit's amazing
What a concept, but my name is Mud

[Verse 3]
Damn right mister Claypool
I couldn't have said it better, you're like an angel
I'm not as accepted as I expected
Through my perspective in front of the sexes
And I didn't get elected
Like Charlamagne Tha God fuckin' hates me
Man, wish I felt accomplished by having such a prestigious
Over achieving genius like Charlamagne to complain about me
Why can't somebody whose really done something doubt me?
That's hard luck, fuck it, I'm used to kickin' buckets
I'm used to pickin' up sticks for the general public
I don't know how being white is such a sensitive subject
It ain't like I'm the kind of white like a Jimmy Buffet
Or mother fuckin' geek undeserving of credibility
I'm realer than most of these rappers ever was or will it be's
I don't sell dope and I don't ask why
I don't pin, fuck quotes, and I don't sell lies
[Skit]
Yelawolf, man he changes, man he's so weird
He went from wearing a mohawk to fuckin' rocking a beard, in a year
And now he's over that, what is he gonna do?
And I saw him on Instagram and he's rockin' some cowboy boots?

[Verse 4]
I feel great, you should get a pair
My DJ's got a pair of rattlesnake skin boots, he's outta here
We like being not like you, that's the point
Besides I look amazing, Baby, roll me a joint
And I don't even smoke no more
I just feel like Willie Nelson more than I have before
So turn the music up a mother fuckin' tad bit more
And prepare yourself for another Shady smash of course
I ain't one of these artists, clearly that stickin', they never change
I love opening doors, exploring parts of my brain
Reflected externally through my clothes, views and style
And it takes a hell of heart to do it in front of a crowd
Pardon me while I start a new chapter inside my book
It's a feeling of pure enjoyment to sing you another hook
To look on your face when you hear it, the shit that I created
It's amazing and I can feel it, believe it I can relate, but

[Hook 3]
Don't be a hater on the fucking clock
Trimmin' fat takes time, just wait, watch
These rappers really think they got shit locked
But they gonna know about me when my album drops
Love Story
I’ll give it to you motherfuckers when daddy comes home