Shotgun

Shotgun
Your baby’s got one
Trouble, love trouble, love trouble, love that trouble
Pump-action Mr. Jackson
I was cocked and loaded
Woke up in the morning
Both my barrels smokin'
Buckshot, salt rock, and climbing up a ladder
Windowsills and doctor bills
And she keeps getting fatter
You in trouble boy
You better run
Here comes your woman with a shotgun
Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun
Trouble, love trouble, love trouble, love that trouble
Got a plastic West Virginia truck stop cowboy hat
You cannot buy true love, but you can shoot its ass
Pawn shop, package deal, and shotgun in the rain
Pink eyes, hot rice, and let the angels sing
You in trouble boy
You better run
Here comes your woman with a shotgun
Shotgun!
You in trouble boy
You better run
Here comes your woman with a shotgun
Shotgun!
Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun
Trouble, love trouble, love trouble, love that trouble
Aw, I didn’t mean nothing by that
Why she wanna go around and shoot that thing?
Oh, it’s that six-pack family planning