Karaoké Pop the Trunk Yelawolf

Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke pills

Through the streets like an early morning fog

Momma's in the slaughter house with a 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 ya'll

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 brilo

Went to the Chevy and pulled out a machete

And that gun is heavy and tall as the midget willow

Think he's playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you

Think he's playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you

Eleven thirty and I'm pulling up dirty smoking babbage out

The back of my buddies

Monty Carlo

Spitting over some super 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

And tonight one of the bitches is giving us problem

Well one of them bitches

Be fucking 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 playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you

Think he's playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk 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 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 playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you

Think he's playing

You better listen what he's saying 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 donk boy

Don't make me go pop the trunk on you