| Pick up, pick up, daddy’s in the pickup
|
| Got so much bounce the kick drum give me the hiccups
|
| You don’t want it with me, sucker, just look up
|
| Beer flyin' in this mothafucka like bird shit
|
| Ran these Mickey Thompsons up on the curb, bitch
|
| Crook as a picture on Sunday
|
| My maniac Slumerican squad mount up around your Hyundai
|
| Chevy’s up, we got low lives and bow ties
|
| Up shit’s creek, I’ll take you for a boat ride
|
| Stick his head in the water, now let him flap his lips
|
| Motormouth, make a wave, yeah, Roll Tide
|
| You’re playin' golf in lightning? |
| So am I
|
| Dressed in a tin man suit
|
| Drinkin' a tin can too, that is 110 proof, uh
|
| Man if I only had a heart for you bitches
|
| I’d get down on my knees and help you dig them ditches
|
| But mama only raised Hell
|
| So when you’re done diggin' that ditch, bitch, bury yourself, boaw
|
| Pass me that Colt .45
|
| I’m partyin' 'til my fuckin' throat sore and dry
|
| I’m goin' down
|
| Aw, man—you gotta love it
|
| I’m on my way
|
| Hey, mama, all around the town they’re sayin'
|
| «He's goin' down, Lord, have mercy»
|
| I’m country-rich, no budget
|
| Got to get paid
|
| Hey, daddy, all around the town they’re sayin'
|
| «He's goin' down, Lord, have mercy»
|
| Uh, You drivin' drunk, better lift your seat up
|
| Cause cops pull us over just to fuckin' meet us
|
| Cause Marshall’s a Rap God, damn right
|
| Well, then I guess that makes me Jesus
|
| So turn this water to whiskey
|
| Watch the dirty south go from dirty to filthy
|
| High class only means stoned in school
|
| Joints rolled up bigger than pony stool
|
| Smoke, stains on the roof of the old Regal’s brown
|
| So what I got spokes on this bitch, and?
|
| The lift kicks like climbin' into a spaceship
|
| UFO’s, unidentified flyin' Oldsmobiles
|
| And mobile homes, amen
|
| I can still smell the kerosene leakin'
|
| I should’ve seen the signs, I was blowin' up
|
| Either in a trailer home or a pickup
|
| Hey, Bubba, your baby boy is in big trouble
|
| I fuckin' ran through a briar patch and got cut up
|
| Now I’m wide open in front of the whole town
|
| I bled for the game, I guess it’s obvious now
|
| I’m goin' down now, he told me wear it with pride
|
| You wanna take the hard road you gotta cherish the ride
|
| Most mothafuckers won’t jump to embarrass the fly
|
| Can’t build a legacy up, then let it perish and die
|
| I’m goin' down
|
| Aw, man, you gotta love it
|
| I’m on my way
|
| Hey, mama, all around the town they’re sayin'
|
| «He's goin' down, Lord, have mercy»
|
| I’m country-rich, no budget
|
| Got to get paid
|
| Hey, daddy, all around the town they’re sayin'
|
| «He's goin' down, Lord, have mercy»
|
| Aw, man—you gotta love it
|
| I’m on my way
|
| Hey, mama, all around the town they’re sayin'
|
| «He's goin' down, Lord, have mercy» |