Lyrics

Oh, my little AR-10,
Keeps my yard snake-free since way back when!
You can bring your gang, your cash, your sin —
But you won’t out-talk my next of kin.
We don’t dial 9-1-1 ‘round here,
We holler, “Hey Ma, get me another beer!”
So come on up, you brave cartel men —
We’ll barbecue and bury you with my AR-10


I live out in New Hampshire where the maple syrup’s real,
Where deer outnumber people and the cows patrol the field.
But I heard some CJNG thug chatter — “Let’s head north, boys, make a run!”
So I cracked a cold one, grinned, and grabbed my AR-10 for fun

They cruise in Escalades thinkin’ they’re hard as stone,
But I’ve got cousins with mullets who chew bullets and bone.
You sell your dope like it’s gold dust — try that on our land,
You’ll end up Nailed to a moose with a note from Uncle Stan

Oh, my little AR-10,
She’s tuned up tight and zeroed in.
I’ve got ten more in the barn out back,
And a raccoon squad in case you attack.
We ain’t scared, we laugh, we grin —
At Sinola Cartel clowns and CJNG spin.
So bring your worst, and bring a pen —
You’ll sign your will ‘cause this is where it ends…
With me, a beer… and my AR-10