Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke peels

Through the streets like an early morning fog

Momma′s in the slaughter house with a hatchetHelping Daddy chop early morning hog

I'm catching Zs 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 ya'll

Stood up in my Crimson Tide Alabama sweatpants 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

Naw, he′s rough like a brillo

Went to the Chevy and pulled out a machete

And a gun as 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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying 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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying in the back of the dump, boy

Don′t make me go pop the trunk on you

11:30 and I'm pulling up dirty

Smoking babbage out the back of my buddy′s Monte Carlo

Spitting over some Supa Hot Beats

With a super hot freak we call the parking lot hoe

You know we sipping 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 fucking one of my homeboy's favorite bitches

And he′s 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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying 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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying 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 salt 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 the hollowed steel

In the valley of the hollowed field

In the valley of the hollowed tip

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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying 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 Mossberg

In the Mossy Oak duffle bag laying in the back of the dump, boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you