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Can't touch me when I'm steppin' my Luccheses (Lucchese) I got a stick, if a bitch try to play me (play me) If I pull up in the box, you gonna end up in that box I'm Slumerican till that casket fuckin' drop Yela told me to get em then I got em Motherfucker you don’t want this problem Don’t make me pop the trunk, bitch Glocks, got the extended clip It won’t jam, it won't miss Better hide your wife, hide your kids Boogeyman, with the fendi drip Post that shot, on my lid Slumerican fashion I heard your bitch askin’ He fresh to death, casket Killin shit like Carole Baskin Never hide it in the mattress They got my mama’s address I dip across the atlas I’m in the game, fuck practice If you wanna fuck with me It’s gonna cost a fee I don’t believe in Jesus I don’t own a Jesus piece Fuck your opinion, you’re not cut game SongtexteYou’re just a minion Im Rick Flair, I’m worth the miz I’m bout the bread, like a Sicilian (Can't touch me when I'm steppin' my Luccheses (Lucchese)) We some low fashion killers yeah drive a bitch crazy (I gotta stick, if a bitch try to play me (play me)) Stick okay sick Paw paw paw like a mace, mace (If I pull up in the box, you gonna end up in that box) If I pull up in that box well then you know I'm ready to rob motherfuckers (I'm Slumerican till that casket fuckin' drops) S-L-U-M-E-R-I-C-A-N boy we comin in hot Yeah making magic in that boiling water I done see so many trap houses that I should've got me a name tag I've been Wayne push, take a major order Gave em a plug when they here to drop And it ain't evil what I'm about Just a brother helping out my brother but he still do me a quarter pound I smoked up a ounce in the meantime, I didn't even sell one dime Stayed an á la brocante lab-rat one in the maze of my mind I got to get to that cheese boy, eating this government cheese boy? Got dressed with the [?] boy, got blessed like a sneeze boy Not stressed, not the least boy Millionaires ain't in my skull I'm talking after the bees boy, like a bear to the honey comb Got the paws up, claws out, from under the roof of a small house with no heat, and a old couch To a drop chevy, rolling out (Can't touch me when I'm steppin' my Luccheses (Lucchese)) We some low fashion killers yeah drive a bitch crazy (I gotta stick, if a bitch try to play me (play me)) Stick okay sick Paw paw paw like a mace, mace (If I pull up in the box, you gonna end up in that box) If I pull up in that box well then you know I'm ready to rob motherfuckers (I'm Slumerican till that casket fuckin' drops) S-L-U-M-E-R-I-C-A-N boy we comin in hot S-L-U-M-E-R-I-C-A-N S-L-U-M-E-R-I-C-A-N boy we comin in hot, hot Badd Wolf, Yelawolf Slumafia Gang Aus Songtexte Mania