Youre a Goner
You aint ever been to the Haunted Mound
We come around your town, toe pincher on me
Turnabout, Hackle Down, Grave Man creepin through the trees
Goner hit my phone, get in the funery
Coffins by the pound, my bitch gon lay with me
Haunted Mound
Turnabout
Hauntaholics, Real Haunted Mound
We come around your town, toe pincher on me
Turnabout, Hackle Down, Grave Man creepin through the trees
Goner hit my phone, get in the funery
Coffins by the pound, my bitch gon lay with me
Never gave a fuck, my .40 make you do the number two
Mutilate your face and body, nobody could tell its you
There aint no comin round
There aint no comin round
I came with my brothers, they surround you like vultures
I just lit up a coffin nail, an open toe pincher
Keep the casket closed, ask about questions later
Never gave a fuck, Ill fuckin kill a damn hater
Turnabout, Turnabout, why the mound always flexin?
Bitch, nobody, nobody fuck with my brethren
Grave Man grip a chrome thang, and Hackle got a AK
Goner got a fuckin bone knife from Little Forest
Whos that with the Robin jeans?
Its Turnabout, the man wholl fuckin kill your whole team
Dont try me, or the mound where we come from
I dont give a fuck, what is did will be undone
We come around your town, toe pincher on me
Turnabout, Hackle Down, Grave Man creepin through the trees
Goner hit my phone, get in the funery
Coffins by the pound, my bitch gon lay with me
Never gave a fuck, my .40 make you do the number two
Mutilate your face and body, nobody could tell its you
There aint no comin round
There aint no comin round
We posted in the woods, youll never find us, we aint,
Find us, we aint comin out
In those same woods we beat your head, you never come around
Its the doomsday, bitch, you aint no prepper, you aint ready now
We put you in a coffin so deep, sleepin in white shrouds
This that Haunted Mound, we goin dumb
American double B, no one got it, we be turnin up
Hit you in the chest, cave it in, now you coughin blood
Make that boy sick, coughin up, that boy got the suds
We rollin round the town, lots of killin
Die slow for me and go to heaven
Pull up here, youll meet my weapon
Pull up here, youll meet my Smith Wesson
We come around your town, toe pincher on me
Turnabout, Hackle Down, Grave Man creepin through the trees
Goner hit my phone, get in the funery
Coffins by the pound, my bitch gon lay with me
Never gave a fuck, my .40 make you do the number two
Mutilate your face and body, nobody could tell its you
There aint no comin round
There aint no comin round
Gonerville
Hauntaholics, Real Haunted Mound