| Weighin' in the big bucks is where I be
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| I got shine in the stumps as far as you can see
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| Country Al Capone to find me you need a drone
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| Walk up in my woods and get a broadhead to the dome
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| I got frog gigs, trot lines
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| Catfish hooks, and sharpened buck tines
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| It’s all for you if you cross me for the last time
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| I’ll put you down together while listening to Patsy Cline
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| And all my competition movin' like molasses
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| Got girls cookin' shine so I can look at their fat asses
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| Ridin' into town on my horse with the force
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| They always tryin' to catch me but I communicate in Morse
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| Death to the carpetbagger always look dapper
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| Hit him with the dagger put his ass up on a platter
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| And feed me (feed me) I’m hungry mothertruckers
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| Just tryna make some money get out and burn rubber
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| We just tryna to make a dollar
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| Dirt road scholar backwoods baller
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| Come to our holler and you gon' get slaughtered
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| We just tryna make a dollar
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| Dirt road Don backwoods brawn
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| If they got a problem we tell 'em to bring it on
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| Born in that muddy muddy where dirty pigs waller
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| Deep in the thicket where them yuppies cannot follow
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| Homegrown hemp is growin' but them pines grow taller
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| Got a slew full of trot lines woods full of drop tines
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| Everybody got shine sample some but not mine
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| 'Cause that shit’ll put some hair on your chest
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| Looking like a wooly mammoth need some Nair on my chest, yeah
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| The smoke dog told me don’t you trust a city slicker
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| And naw she ain’t a keeper if that girl don’t shoot the liquor
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| These city chickie’s can’t handle our southern ways
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| On Saturday we wasted, Sunday morning we prayin'
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| Couple country spitters represent the grand division
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| Created such a buzz we need a Narcan prescription
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| We got it out the mud and built it out of rough lumber
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| Used to barely mutter now we blarin' thunder buddy
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| I’m a shot caller from a holler
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| We just tryna to make a dollar
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| Dirt road scholar backwoods baller
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| Come to our holler and you gon' get slaughtered
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| We just tryna make a dollar
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| Dirt road Don backwoods brawn
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| If they got a problem we tell 'em to bring it on
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| Back in the woods gettin' me a dip (gettin' me a dip)
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| Outlaw and them boys are back again (back again)
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| Drinkin' blended bourbon flowin' straight up out the barrel
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| King Tut in the woods still slingin' arrows
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| Daddy call me fat even though I know I’m narrow
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| Mess around and I’ma have to hit with a chair boe
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| Mowin' and tillin' and grillin' I’ma bout to get back to my roots on
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| Pissin' on the tree about to put my Justin boots on
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| Busting out the tree house got the bong bubblin'
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| Big boobs bustin' out their blouses and I’m lovin' it
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| I’m drunk at competition and disobeyin' the government
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| With the damn tax man can kiss my I’ve had enough of him
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| Still, callin' shots from the tree stand
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| Still, goin' nuts call us pecans
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| Still, goin' strong can’t stop me
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| Backwoods badass that is what they call me
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| Holler holler
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| Dirt road scholar backwoods baller
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| Come to our holler and you gon' get slaughtered
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| Shot caller from a holler
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| Holler holler
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| Dirt road Don backwoods brawn
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| If they gotta problem we tell 'em to bring it on |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Shot Caller from a Holler , by - outlaw. Song from the album Backwoods Badass, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп