W.O.W. (With Out Warning)

Chorus

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Verse 1: Yelawolf

Hop off my Harley Davidson lookin' like I just got hit with a cool stick

Cherry red boots, cigarette lit and aggravated

How come it's to this dirt road, moon************ne trailer trash trooper

Everyday's a party, happy belated

If you smokin' m*******a with your mama at 12

Then we either related or related in jail

Street thangs, stealin' Hondas for them Asian gangs

Hopefully Yao Ming's little sister would give me brains

That's street cred for the uncredible nobodies

I'm a Bon Jovi look-alike, ************, I so got it

Loud it, Catfish Billy, get stoked shawty

And I ************ned up the bowties up that box body

And Alabama knows it, travel the world with my slangs

Some of them don't get the slang but Alabama knows it

I'm sweaty funk, humidity punks

Fish hook in the hat, dirty Louisville bat

Lips chapped, I'm country hard

Chorus

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Verse 2: Royce da 5'9"

Ain't nobody fresher than 'em

And def with more pressure than 'em

Never mess with ******s whose image is skinny, stretchy denim

Just remember everyone who with me winners

Everyone who with you dinner

************ with you quick as Bruce and Chrissy Jenner

Chrome rims on a whip just to ************ne on ******s

Black tires, the lip white, Tyrone Biggums

Giving out turkeys on Thanksgiving like Nino with us

We even passin' out TVs like Wendy Williams

All I know is that I'm the wild child

Y'all don't want no smoke with these bars

All y'all ******s know is y'all SoundCloud

Hypothetically say I'm pissed, I would definitely AR grip

I would definitely spray y'all quick

If y'all expectin' me to hesitate to shoot this ************

Then y'all are definitely in the playoffs with J.R. Smith

I would definitely put my hand in your pocket

But not the way you want

I put your whole family in boxes like y'all the Brady Bunch

Chorus

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Put the rap game on a crutch

Blow the spot without warning

You get no chance to back down

Verse 3: Royce da 5'9"

I go bananas, too miraculous to react to mortal mammals

Cookin' crack in my new velour pajamas

Gettin' back to my roots, rap where I stored 'em hammers

Lord of Grammar, my IQ's my actual portal panel

My IP address is my dressers drawer

I ain't stressed unless it's war, I ain't said ************t unless it's more

I bet you you'll die less than my irons legend for regrettin' gore

Ghost whiter than the driven snow and it's headed north

Lookin' like it's for the seven floors, flows are metaphors

Buried skulls all over the globe like a Stegosaurus

My rifle kick back when it get blazed in the sky

I'm a classic, I get dressed playin' Aquemini

Don't do some ************t to get your wifey kidnapped

Have you on Twitter beggin' for your ************ back like Sage Gemini

Why these ******s gettin' their hair dyed and they nails polished

I'm like Biggie and Pac trapped inside of Big L's body

Outro: Big L from '92 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle

Rhymes I create a knock out ya gold tooth

Battlin' me is like fightin' a gorilla in a phone booth

I wreck mics and drop the cool speeches

Nowadays rappers think they mother******' schoolteachers