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lirik lagu get out my yard (remix) – hard target (group)

[intro]
redneck souljers
every time i walk outside my door
i see another scene
so i load my gun and lock my door i see another sin
this is mine and that is yours
you better not set a foot inside my home (inside my home)

[chorus]
granddaddy winchester still on the shelf (yeah)
get it, got it, load it, blowed it (yeah)
my daddy 30-30 loaded with sh-lls (yeah)
b-tch you better notice
get out my yard (get out my yard)
better leave me alone (better leave me alone)
better know my rights (better know my rights)
now protect my home (now protect my home)
get out my yard (get out my yard)
better leave me alone (better leave me alone)
better know my rights (better know my rights)
now protect my home (now protect my home)

[verse 1: fatt tarr]
back in the woods where the moon beams down on the dew
on the gr-ss, on the blood, that was left behind
couple double aught sh-lls makin’ the trail to the property line
they gotta be mine
and i don’t mind a fight, but i know my rights, if you want to try
just to get up in my sh-t, within the night
i’ma light you up and send that -ss sky high
’cause ain’t n0body creepin’ ’round this late at night
unless they lookin’ for trouble
give ’em a double with a pump on it, roots with a stump on it
that’s the way you hooked on it, bonnie with a slump on it
guess my dirty mustard got caught up in the moment
man i’m tired of this sh-t, it’s gettin’ old
on my grandpa they tried about a week ago
but now his brother’s right outside up on my lawn
and i’m about to make it so they f-ckin’ both live six below
out in pleasant grove, it ain’t so pleasant
got that shot for the bucks and the pheasants
got big slugs for the punk motherf-ckers
that want to come in and shift our leverage
b-tch we been here so d-mn long
growin’ something that they call the devil’s lettuce (lettuce)
and if you want it come and get it, i’ll leave you with a message
get out my yard

[verse 2: hard target]
you try to hit and run that’s a bad call
i’ma catch y’all stealin’ like a p-ssed ball
this my home, here’s a tip dog
you gonna take a shot like last call
cross this line of property, try to rob me
i got a thousand acres to hide your body
your better off in them homes that can buy versace
’cause if i’m gone (the redneck souljers got me)
and when the hammer hits the -ss end of the sh-ll it spits
you better scale this fence, ’round my residence
i got alligators that erase evidence
and i can see this in a man like a pessimist
you gon’ feel like neil armstrong
when this trigger finger lifts you like the gravity’s gone
it’s the sundance kid butch c-ssidy song
we’ll fill you full of smoke like a gravity bong
i’m ill, and i still advise for you to realize that the hills have eyes
you can eat a quarter-pounder just lettin’ it fly
when them bullets catch up, no side of fries
huah, so make a foolish move
and i’m a have a hot barrel in this cool hand luke
step on my green gr-ss in you new tan boots
green soda in the gl-ss that’s a no d-mn dew (d-mn dew)

[verse 3: cymple man]
better mind my words, you feel like steppin’ in my house
better fight the urge
got a appet-te for somethin’, you gonna bite the curb
like gustav or your face like heisenburg
’cause you don’t know the half of it
while you’re talkin’ to the sh-ll of a 10 gauge
shotgun go marilyn manson if you actin’ like a b-tch
and we’ll take out your ribcage
and to the average person, they be actin’ nervous
get tough big buck, i’m a plastic surgeon
daddy gonna bring the ice, it’ll crack a surface
next trip you’ll be visitin’ the taxidermist
like blah, we don’t need to speak tonight
you get shot by someone who can’t read or write
and tell that lawman he ain’t gotta read my rights
the next convo you have will be with jesus christ
doin’ what i gotta do, don’t bother me i won’t bother you
try to jump my fence like an obstacle
they’ll find you frozen in the sticks like a popsicle
fatt tarr’s got a machete that’s bigger than a chevy
everybody’s surroundin’ your body hopin’ that you make it
but the fact of the matter is, i am holdin’ e’ry gun in my lap
like a motherf-ckin’ talk job (talk job, talk job)

[verse 4: c-hubb]
yeah, there once was a man on a dead end road (road, road)
outside city limits on pleasant grove (grove)
81 and he lived all alone with his faithful mutts (mutts)
n0body ever really came out his way because
one night johnny bad-ss
tried to break and enter on that old man’s house all sl!ck
johnny got to drinkin’ and he started thinkin’
of an easy way he could come up with the quick
he didn’t want to work hard and make an honest livin’
even though he was in need of a check
so when he kicked in the door
old man put that motherf-ckin’ 12-gauge bead to his neck
and the shot rang out like a god d-mn cannon
johnny’s neck blown out, that was not his plannin’
now his muscles get stiff, rigor mortis sittin’ in
people gather in the yard, one is not left standin’
the old man put his gun down
as he started walkin’ to the police car
and all he said to the boys in blue
“get that piece of sh-t out of my yard, sum’b-tch!” (b-tch)

[outro]
they wonderin’ what wrong with me
society is crumblin’
every time i walk outside my door i see another sin
so i load my gun and lock my doors
this is mine and that is yours
you better not set a foot inside my home (inside my home)

every time i walk outside my door i see another sin
so i load my gun and lock my doors
this is mine and that is yours (that is yours, that is yours)

society is crumblin’
every time i walk outside my door i see another sin
so i load my gun and lock my doors
this is mine and that is yours
you better not set a foot inside my home (inside my home, inside my home, inside my home)

- hard target group

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