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Y / Yelawolf / Pop The Trunk


[Yelawolf]
Meth lab in the back in the crack
Smoke peels fill the streets like an early mornin fog
Momma's in the slaughterhouse with the hatchet
helpin daddy chop early mornin hog
I'm catchin Z's like an early mornin saw
When I walk 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 with my Crimson Tide
Alabama sweatpants and threw my pillow
Looks like daddy caught that 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

[Chorus 2X: Yelawolf]
Think he's playin? You better listen what he sayin punk
Don't, make, me, go, pop the trunk, on you
He got an old Mossberg in a mossy oak duffle bag layin in the back of the donk boy
Don't, make, me, go, pop the trunk, on you

[Yelawolf]
11:30 and I'm pullin up dirty
Smokin babbage out the back of my buddy's Monte Carlo
Spittin over some SupaHot Beats
with a super hot freak we call a parking lot hoe
You know we sippin on that ol' 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 givin us problems
Well one of them bitches
been fuckin one of my homeboy's favorite bitches
And he's been on his hitlist 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

[Chorus]

[Yelawolf]
Two men stand, one's gotta go
One falls down to the ground, one walks down to the row
Momma better call the police, now he's screaming "No"
Took a buckshot to the chest with a rock salt shell and he's movin slow
All this blood is spilled, enough to give a penguin chills
Hot enough to make the potato smoke at the tip of the hollowed steel
In the valley of the hollow field, in the valley of the hollow tip
This ain't a figment of my imagination, buddy this is where I live
'Bama!

[Chorus]
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