driving through your neighborhood to see if you're home
music down, windows up, sitting on chrome
I'm not talking about the car's wheels, shoes, or feet
I'm talkin about the motherfuckin .45 under my seat
you fucked up one time to many, now you're hunted
hidin at your grandma's cause you're scared to be confronted
but I'll track you down like a fucking bloodhound
you'll be found bound and drowned
tied under the pier behind the fairgrounds
listen to these words long written down
cause that's what happens... when the man comes around
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