Meth lab in the back and the crack
Smoke pills like an early morning fog
Momma's in the slaughter house with a hatchet
Helping daddy, chop early morning hog
I'm catching Z's like an early morning saw
When I woke up to the racket yawn and pause
What the fuck man I can never get sleep man
Peeped out the window what's wrong with y'all?
Stood up in my Crimson Tide
Alabama sweat pants and threw my pillow
Looks like daddy caught the motherfucker
That tried to sneak in and steal his elbows
They don't know that old man don't hold hands
Or throw hands no, he's rough like a billow
Went to the Chevy and pulled out a machete
And that gun is heavy and tall as the midget willow
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
In the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
Iin the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
11:30 and I'm pullin' up dirty smoking
Damage out the back of my buddies Monty Carlo
Spittin' over some super hot beats
With a super hot freak, we call the parking lot hoe
You know we sippin' on that old brown bottle
Bass in the trunk make the whole town wobble
So when we ride around bitches follow
But tonight one of the bitches is giving us problems
Well, one of them bitches
Be fuckin' one of my homeboys favorite bitches
And has been on his hit list for a minute
And I think he's ready to handle his business
He told me Yelawolf get this
And he handed me the Cartier watch
That was on his wrist
He said, Watch this shit
And he jumped to the trunk
And grabbed his biscuit, biscuit
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
In the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
In the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
Two men stand, one's gotta go
One falls down to the ground
One walks down to the road
Momma better call the police
Now he's screaming no
Took a buckshot to the chest
With a rock soft shell and he's moving slow
All this blood has spilled
Enough to give a penguin chills
Hot enough to make a potato smoke
At the tip of a hollowed steel
In the valley of the hollowed fields
In the valley of the hollowed till
This ain't a figment of my imagination buddy
This is where I live, Bama
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
In the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
Think he's playin'?
You better listen what he's sayin', punk
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you
He got an old Moss-berg
In the mossio duffel bag
Layin' in the back of the dump, boy
Don't make me go pop the trunk on you

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