Empty Bottles - Yelawolf

Empty bottles on the table

Black roses on the ground

Silhouettes of people dancing

To an unfamiliar sound

Hello stranger, can I call you a friend?

My friend, I’m going down

With empty bottles on the table

Black roses on the ground

Ground bottle six with the permanent bliss

Razor sharp glass lips, give me a kiss

Eyes fixated with the familiar shape

Black label, white letters, they integrate

Cubans in the bar room with harpoons

I bloom in the night fog like mushrooms

See every bullet hole in the window of my past

Now that’s what I call a shot glass (2, 3, 4)

Count the cracks on the sidewalk

Pack the cigarette box in my left palm

Flame on the tip of a smoke

I don’t know where the light came from

Legs like a ghost, I still walk

Whole world must try and concrete feels soft

Blinded by the cameras pop flash

I’m a big fan, shot glass?

(2, 3, 4)

Oh, what a life it’s been

What about my life in there?

What about the would and whens?

If, maybes, could-have-beens?

You didn’t know shit about me, man

You didn’t go to school in the clothes that I had to wear back then

Look at you, fucking faggot, what you looking at, punk?

What, bitch?

Give me another shot, hey, what you want?

Make it a double, fuck it, a triple, fuck it, give me the bottle

And then it’s bottoms-up, what a positive role model

Wake up in the morning feeling like I’m not awake at all, take a Tylenol,

shake it off

Wanna take another shot of Jack but Jack D shot me with a sawed-off

Wake up in the morning feeling like I’m not awake at all, take a Tylenol,

shake it off

Wanna take another shot of Jack but Jack D shot me with a sawed-off