[Verse 1: Yelawolf]
Look at them boots, huh? The fuck am I—Elvis?
You think I dropped two racks, on a pair of crocodile tails
Just to let 'em sit up on the shelf, bitch?
Yela' done lost his mind
Dropped 70 grand up on the Chevrolet
A bug got into my throat, I had to cough it up
The dealership hit me with the pepper spray
Money, money, money, 20, 30, 40, 50 and another hunnid
If I don't get rid of this ridiculous amount of dividends
I'll probably end up with a knot up in my stomach
If I don't feel well, then I don't get mail
If I don't get mail, then I can't steer well
If I can't steer well, I'ma run over these mothafuckas
Like a gorilla up in a titanium tank drinkin' on clear
Well, what do you expect?
I ain't never seen a hunnid thousand dollar check
Even Walmart had to restock
Fucking with me up in the electronic department
What do you mean, you can't sell all 6 flat screens?
What am I supposed to put in my garage?
A fucking projecta?
How do you expect me to take a piss, and not miss Sons of Anar-
Chy? What a dream, what a dream, what is this? What is that? What is up with the bling? What a scene
Buy the couch, buy the lamp, buy the room, buy the sink
Buy the whole damn thing, bada boom, bada bing
House lookin' like the Bass Pro Shop
Buffalo heads, bears, bucks and dead ducks
Fuck changing up
Kill it, stuff it, and hang it up
You don't like it? Then you lame as fuck
Come on in, want a beer?
Oh, yeah—Next to Nothing, motherfucker
Slumerican shit!
[Chorus: Rittz + Yelawolf]
These mothafuckas make me laugh, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Look at how they dress, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Listen how they rap, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Tryna say they fresh, tryna say they tough
You ain't ever been about it, you just make shit up
Hey Rittz, what's up!?

[Verse 2: Rittz]
Some people never really cease to amaze me
These days it's like no one can take a hint
I make a song called "Lame As Fuck"
And all these rappers acting like it don't pertain to them
If I was to name these lame motherfuckers, it would take me ten
Minutes to give 'em attention, so I'll be vague and vent
(I'm talkin' 'bout you)
But if you feel like I'm referring to you
Then you're the reason my patience is paper thin
First off, if you know me as Rittz, I think you're real lame
If you see me and you try to call me by my real name
Just because you read my Wikipedia
Don't even say to people that we kicked it, when we never did hang
Same type of motherfucker will beg for your number
And wonder why you ignore 'em, like twenty times on the road
'Cause I'm busy, and this is why I hesitated giving it to you, homie
You need to go get a life of your own
"How do I know if I'm lame?" Lemme ask you this:
Are you always commenting online like you're an expert on everything?
When someone's sick, do you try to chime in
And tell 'em what medicine they should buy?
Do you write your life story on Facebook when no one gives a damn?
Instagram full of family pictures
Shitty car, got a pair of rims on it
You ever done a "Ice Bucket Challenge"?
Then the answer's "Yes"
Do you ask random people 'bout a tat
Just so you can show 'em yours, when nobody give a shit?
Lookin' lame, takin’ pictures with a pit
Say you love it, make it mean
And you give the dog away, I hope you end up gettin' bit
Bitches actin' like they model for a living when they strip
I'm confused on how to say it: are they memes or they mems?
I'm just sick of seeing dorky shit written on a picture
For a minute it was cool, but now I'm wishin' it would end
Hell nah, I feel the word "thot" is twat
It's difficult, it doesn’t roll off my tongue
You prolly used the word "fleek" the same week you heard it, you geek
Nerdy, pussy, nobody showing you love
You lame as fuck, if you ain’t rolling with Slum
You lame as fuck yelling "Worldstar!" holding your phone
You think you dope, but you dumb
You wanna rap to me? I'm hoping you gone
You think you flow, that mean you totally dumb
'Cause you lame as fuck
[Verse 3: Royce da 5’9”]
All I see around here is boring flows and Rollies, e-beef, warning tweets
These bitches totally taking thoting, to a whole 'nother level (What's yo' name?) like they was born for hoeing
And then she got to turn around and expose the n***a, she was just chilling with the night before, without a warning
So she can get accepted socially, so you gotta know
Was she colder than ice? She rollin' the dice
Or block her on the neck like you born a goalie, Uh!
A hunnid, a hunnid, a hunnid, a hunnid, a hunnid, that's the new corn emoji
"Who want it, who want it?" That's the new rhetorical question
Nobody seems to have the answers to, the only question n***as seem to have an answer to is
"Who done it, who done it?" Snitching is the new equivalent
To cancer foo', stop working, and getting your pay
And giving it to dancers, knowing your children need Pampers
Foo', you n***as nowadays are
Probably waiting in line all day, just to get advanced a shoe, 'cause they was made by Kanye, you put them on
Get a glance or two, then you go home and your daughter say "How Sway?" But you ain't got the answers, foo', the shit is too pathetic
'Cause you too busy tryna keep up with the n***a who be tryna keep up with the n***a who be chasing
All of these bitches, with all the artificial body parts, looking too synthetic, look, if Yelawolf tell a n***a
That he want you deaded, you be deaded, quick as I can finish blowing the Romeo Julietta, after I finish
Sending a n***a at you who be throwing Tony Romos out of a Ruger, ready to risk it all for me
Get off of me, y'all funny, this is the remix—Rittz, talk to me

[Chorus: Rittz]
These mothafuckas make me laugh, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Look at how they dress, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Listen how they rap, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Tryna say they fresh, tryna say they tough
You ain't ever been about it, you just make shit up
You lame as fuck
[Verse 4: KXNG Crooked]
Oh word? Y'all ain't think that I was coming in this bitch?
Bet ya think I'm talkin' 'bout, making an entrance, talk 'bout making an entrance
Into a lame n***a's Mrs., listen to that sentence, I said "Cumming in this bitch!"
Rubbing on her clit, sucking on her tits, cumming on her lips, why am I humping on this chick?
'Cause he dumber than a brick, talking about the 'lluminati like "Doesn't it exist?" and didn't Eminem become a puppet
For the government in this country, once he's start coming with the hits? I ain’t fucking with them Rittz
These dudes been dropped on their head, swimming in they daddy balls, he should have opted for some head
Yo momma should have swallowed you instead, missed y'all not at all, uh, wait
What about these mothafuckas acting like they trapping, but ain't never flipped a quarter? rappers never traffickin'
Across the Tijuana border you the sorta n***a wearin' a recorder, talkin' for the court reporter, rolling over, so your time is shorter
But you know your crew, is doing more than just a quarter, now they making orders like them Jordans you be sportin'
In protected custody but luckily, I can't afford to fuck with suckas I ignored them mothafuckas, Crooked sorta like a hoarder
With the pistols (Kill lames!) Crooked he's gone, what is he on? Is it a weed bong?
He got three blondes, with no jeans on, playin' ping pong with his ding dong, while he sing songs
Like I'm Cheech and Chong, bitch I'm King Kong, just a n***a with an attitude like I'm Ice Cube reborn
Mixed with some Bill Cosby, bitch, wrong n***a to sleep on, Rittz

[Chorus: Rittz]
These mothafuckas make me laugh, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Look at how they dress, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Listen how they rap, they L-A-F
They lame as fuck
Tryna say they fresh, tryna say they tough
You ain't ever been about it, you just make shit up