Yea, yea, yea Wham, bam, oh Amsterdam Stone you like nothin' else can Hot damn, roll an Amsterdam If she can't, then no one else can Looking good through the window Shinin' red and blue light A little thick in the bottom But still lookin' alright, yeah

Sail to you I sail to you Now there is this place With so much space It's at the bottom of the world So it lay unspoiled Wind and rain, hurricane And the black man reigned Till the white man came

Can't touch the bottom Oh oh the bottom In too deep She doesn't like the view On the edge He just ain't nothin' But he's got a great view A windowsill

Helter skelter Tell me tell me tell me the answer When you get to the bottom You go back to the top of the slide And you go for a ride Then you get to the bottom Then you see me again Do you, don't you want me to love you Coming down fast I'm right here

Money conversations, money conversations, money convo Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I'm still humble Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble AK-47s, M16s, they gon' sting, bumble Got your main bitch with me bent over

That's just what you do When you're at the bottom It sure could drain a man About as empty as these beer cans Yeah, this time it's it, I'm callin' it quits I'm not turnin' her on anymore She packed up the same ol' stuff And slammed the same ol' door And

Yeah, she's closer to the bottom but she's headed for the top. She's got a dream to be a star dressed in black like Johnny Cash, She likes to play, she loves to rock! With a pink guitar. She saw it in the window, just a callin' out her name. She mowed

'Cause we keep on coming back for more Oh, we're on the right side of rock bottom And I hope that we keep falling We're on the good side of bad karma We're on the right side of rock bottom Into you, I just keep crawling You're the best kind of bad

I got that Trunk Muzik To the DJ's Out cruisin' Everybody hop in the Cadillac And outta back I'ma throttle the Chevrolet's With the bottom won't you roll the window down If ya cruisin' Alabama's unanimous animal Yelawolf On the eight O eight come and

And no shoes, no shirt, no problems Blues what blues hey I forgot them The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom I've been up to my neck workin' six days a week Wearin' holes in the soles of the shoes on my feet Been dreamin' of gettin'