Coffin Town

You're a Goner
You ain't 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 it's you
There ain't no comin' round
There ain't 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, I'll 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
Who's that with the Robin jeans?
It's Turnabout, the man who'll fuckin' kill your whole team
Don't try me, or the mound where we come from
I don't 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 it's you
There ain't no comin' round
There ain't no comin' round

We posted in the woods, you'll never find us, we ain't—,
Find us, we ain't comin' out
In those same woods we beat your head, you never come around
It's the doomsday, bitch, you ain't no prepper, you ain't 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, you'll meet my weapon
Pull up here, you'll 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 it's you
There ain't no comin' round
There ain't no comin' round
Gonerville

Hauntaholics, Real Haunted Mound