Yelawolf - Pop the Trunk lyrics
Yelawolf [Michael Wayne Atha] Gadsden, Alabama/Antioch, Tennessee, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Yelawolf - Pop the Trunk lyrics]
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
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