Ten years old, .243
Big tall tine creeping through the pine trees
Held my breath, steadied my gun
Put it right there where the good blood runs
Tracked his ass down, made the front page
Up there at the deer camp to this day
He's hanging with the rest of my Boones
As proof
That I don't miss
I don't miss
I don't miss
Mr.Redneck taking you to school
I don't hit nothing but the bullseye
Find one shit song in the archive
Bet ya have a hard time
I don't miss
I left town after nineteen years
A buncha you'll be backs ringing in my ears
Now I'm up here getting hit up for front row tickets from the same shit talker selling ditch weed
Working at the Conoco
That I don't miss
I don't miss
I don't miss
Mr.Redneck taking you to school
I don't hit nothing but the bullseye
Find one shit song in the archive
Bet ya have a hard time
I don't miss (miss miss)
I don't fucking miss (miss miss)
Yeah
I ain't Jordan but my first name's Michael
And I swear with my hand on the Bible
Long as y'all keep feeling this shit
I'ma keep shooting ‘cause
I don't miss
(Woah woah)
(Woah woah)
I don't miss
Mr.Redneck taking you to school
I don't hit nothing but the bullseye
Find one shit song in the archive
Bet ya have a hard time
I don't miss
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