"Dope Boy" lyrics
Methamphetamine's in the crock pot, a hot shot
Martha was stewin up something smell like that block rot
Pistols on the kitchen table dusted in snow white
Nothing illuminated except for a grow light
Faucet drippin keepin rhythm somethin by Three 6
Hydro-oxycodone yeah that hillbilly prefix
Razor blades on paper plates them remnants from last night
Country livin slow but some still caught in that fast life
Nothing on the television direct done dipped out
Remote control in pieces guess that somebody flipped out
Piss stains on the carpet dogs barkin in the back room
Caprice in the driveway but he ain't comin back soon
Somethin in the air to take the breath of a sane man
Caught up by surprise it wasn't part of the game plan
Got him while he slippin, still smokin out the heater
Bloody soaked chest piece three through the wife beater
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
It's all fun and games til somebody get got
Fuck around with grown folks somebody gettin shot
Caught up in that life he knew what he was gettin in to
Seen his daddy live it so he knew what he had went through
Roses on the headstone, cemetery visit
Buried half his homeboys and still he was with it
Get that quick dolla, pussy, dope, chrome on the Chevy
Went from pushin dime bags to rollin out the heavy
Pawn shop piece like a new set of steel nuts
But once you cross a certain line, best be down to spill guts
Playin with the big boys and up another tax bracket
Had the big dream but not the brain enough to back it
Try to fly too high you crashin down in a spiral
Some got the mind but stupidity is viral
Wrong mothafucka, wrong place, wrong time
Yellow tape the front yard another scene of a crime
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
Martha was stewin up something smell like that block rot
Pistols on the kitchen table dusted in snow white
Nothing illuminated except for a grow light
Faucet drippin keepin rhythm somethin by Three 6
Hydro-oxycodone yeah that hillbilly prefix
Razor blades on paper plates them remnants from last night
Country livin slow but some still caught in that fast life
Nothing on the television direct done dipped out
Remote control in pieces guess that somebody flipped out
Piss stains on the carpet dogs barkin in the back room
Caprice in the driveway but he ain't comin back soon
Somethin in the air to take the breath of a sane man
Caught up by surprise it wasn't part of the game plan
Got him while he slippin, still smokin out the heater
Bloody soaked chest piece three through the wife beater
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
It's all fun and games til somebody get got
Fuck around with grown folks somebody gettin shot
Caught up in that life he knew what he was gettin in to
Seen his daddy live it so he knew what he had went through
Roses on the headstone, cemetery visit
Buried half his homeboys and still he was with it
Get that quick dolla, pussy, dope, chrome on the Chevy
Went from pushin dime bags to rollin out the heavy
Pawn shop piece like a new set of steel nuts
But once you cross a certain line, best be down to spill guts
Playin with the big boys and up another tax bracket
Had the big dream but not the brain enough to back it
Try to fly too high you crashin down in a spiral
Some got the mind but stupidity is viral
Wrong mothafucka, wrong place, wrong time
Yellow tape the front yard another scene of a crime
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
White trash dope boy (having big dreams)
Tryina make a lot of noise [?]
Livin life in the fast lane
Rollin down the cash lane
Goin til it motherfuckin crash mane
Writer(s): Michael J Puwal, Jr., David Hutto
