[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 nigga, 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 niggas 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 niggas 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 nigga who be tryna keep up with the nigga who be chasing

All of these bitches, with all the artificial body parts, looking too synthetic, look, if Yelawolf tell a nigga

That he want you deaded, you be deaded, quick as I can finish blowing the Romeo Julietta, after I finish

Sending a nigga 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 nigga'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 nigga 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 nigga with an attitude like I'm Ice Cube reborn

Mixed with some Bill Cosby, bitch, wrong nigga 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