[Verse 1: Tom MacDonald]
Hop in the truck, ten of my buddies are already drunk
We don't go nowhere that doesn't have liquor and cigarettes
Riding mechanical bulls in the club
We like to hunt, leave with a gun, come back tomorrow, we covered in blood
With a bucket of guts, we all tougher than fuck
And we popping the clutch, we ain't stuck in the mud
I'm the white boy with the baseball bat, bunch of face tattoos and a NASCAR hat
In the backyard like a scrap yard, got a glass jar full of tobacco that's blacker than asphalt
Rolling with hundreds of crackers who acting like animals, they cannot handle their alcohol
We the white boys from the back woods in the bad hoods
And the trailer park trash that pack guns
When I was younger they'd tell me to struggle and hustle
Like two hundred bikers and they were my brothers
We coming for blood and you running for cover, addicted to drugs, in the gutter
Been drunker than anyone leaving the club, we go dumber than thugs we got mullets and putters
And multiple gunners that coming in Hummers, you under the rubber, you'll never recover
Chain smoking, my lungs hurt, my neck red, got sunburns
Bumping Eminem, we all know the words, bunch of white boys flipping hella birds
Hillbilly really don't care if you like 'em, little bit of moonshine fire inside 'em
Kill 'em in a minute, don't care who's fighting, you don't wanna trip on the kids of Vikings
Camo and mullets and cowboy hats out in public
Got ammo stashed at my cousins and cashing addicts in cupboards
They all dissin', we don't listen, can't hear it no more
We gone fishin', they gone missin', I told y'all before
Hop in the truck, ten of my buddies are already drunk
We don't go nowhere that doesn't have liquor and cigarettes
Riding mechanical bulls in the club
We like to hunt, leave with a gun, come back tomorrow, we covered in blood
With a bucket of guts, we all tougher than fuck
And we popping the clutch, we ain't stuck in the mud
I'm the white boy with the baseball bat, bunch of face tattoos and a NASCAR hat
In the backyard like a scrap yard, got a glass jar full of tobacco that's blacker than asphalt
Rolling with hundreds of crackers who acting like animals, they cannot handle their alcohol
We the white boys from the back woods in the bad hoods
And the trailer park trash that pack guns
When I was younger they'd tell me to struggle and hustle
Like two hundred bikers and they were my brothers
We coming for blood and you running for cover, addicted to drugs, in the gutter
Been drunker than anyone leaving the club, we go dumber than thugs we got mullets and putters
And multiple gunners that coming in Hummers, you under the rubber, you'll never recover
Chain smoking, my lungs hurt, my neck red, got sunburns
Bumping Eminem, we all know the words, bunch of white boys flipping hella birds
Hillbilly really don't care if you like 'em, little bit of moonshine fire inside 'em
Kill 'em in a minute, don't care who's fighting, you don't wanna trip on the kids of Vikings
Camo and mullets and cowboy hats out in public
Got ammo stashed at my cousins and cashing addicts in cupboards
They all dissin', we don't listen, can't hear it no more
We gone fishin', they gone missin', I told y'all before
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