Pop the Trunk

Meth lab in the back

And the crack smoke peels through the streets like an early-morning fog

Momma's in the slaughterhouse with the hatchet

Helping 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 y'all?

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

Nah, he's rough like a Brillo

Went to the Chevy and pulled out a machete

And a gun as heavy and tall as that 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 ho"

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

And tonight, one of them bitches is giving us problems

Well, one of them bitches

Been 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