[Verse 1: Veeko Caine]
\nAbout to go where no spitter's gone
\nVeeko ready, don't need a gun
\nBig machete right through your lung
\nSwipe the evidence, then I'm gone
\nAnybody want to fuck around and test me
\nKnock you to the ground and you can't contest me
\nI don't think you're real and you won't impress me
\nRunnin' from the law but they can't arrest me
\nI spit it with venomous lyrics, with mad precision, listen
\nMy sickle is infamous puttin' you out of commission, wishin'
\nI'm in your crib tearin' it up, livin' it up, drinkin' it up
\nSmokin' it up, a Reel Wolf howl at night
\nLight the sky with a tracer round, punks gonna hit the ground
\nFrown when I come around, them clowns, gonna clap 'em loud
\nWant a problema? You want to be rough, Veeko Caine con la llama te quema
\nWearin' bandanas don't make you a dog, it increases your chance for dilemmas
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nBodies in the trunk! Bodies in the trunk!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a what!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a fuck!
\nTreat me like a punk, you end up in my trunk
\n
\n[Verse 2: Mersinary]
\nI'm calculated when it comes to murder
\nShake your hand and shoot you with a burner
\nDrop some poison inside your drink
\nHere's a natural talent, I ain't got to think
\nGot a blade in my hand and I'm ready to kill
\nGot pickup trucks, some more bodies to fill
\nOn a haunted hill like Cypress Hill
\nI'm out for thrills, I'm poppin' pills
\nLittle bit of gasoline left the body torched
\nLookin' like Paul Walker when he crashed his Porsche
\nLeavin' no witnesses, Xing out the source
\nOne word I don't understand is remorse
\nHangin' heads from a ceiling like a chandelier
\nSee The Devil every time I look in the mirror
\nTo The Man Upstairs, go fuck yourself
\nLife been too hard, I ain't get no help
\nSo I take my anger out on the ignorance
\nI'm hoggin' all the stash just to pay the rent
\n1AM, High Park, it's a main event
\nApproach the victim with a bullshit alias
\nPleading for his life, seeing what I'm aiming with
\nOn some crazy shit like Norman Bates
\nGivin' work to the cops so why the hate?
\nDon't be mad at God 'cause I decide your fate
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nBodies in the trunk! Bodies in the trunk!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a what!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a fuck!
\nTreat me like a punk, you end up in my trunk
\n
\n[Verse 3: Seen B]
\nI'm a killer, don't get the wrong impression
\nQuick to buck ya down with the Smith & Wesson
\nBodies in the town so I keep 'em guessin'
\nPullin' up the Pound, have them ingestin'
\nSpit a couple rounds so you learn your lesson
\nI don't give a fuck, this my profession
\nFiendin' for the blood from a murder session
\nChop your body up so there ain't no question
\nNo arrest when I perform hits
\nIt's a Reel Wolf pack and we swarm shit
\nCome through equipped like Desert Storm shit
\nLeave your people in despair to mourn it
\nUnited like Children of the Corn shit
\nDirty white affiliates and we bombin’
\nPut you underground just like Saddam went
\nFour hooligans with tools and shovels
\nBurn you at the stake so your body bubbles
\nTurn away and walk, you don't want no trouble
\nWe respond to threats and it's on the double
\nHit you in the chest when it's time to rumble
\nPick you out my teeth like a pot of gumbo
\nSpit you on the street then I walk and stumble
\nSodom and Gomorrah, I watch you crumble
\nThe seven-headed beast, I stalk the jungle
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nBodies in the trunk! Bodies in the trunk!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a what!
\nBodies in the trunk! We don't give a fuck!
\nTreat me like a punk, you end up in my trunk\n\n
