Ghost in the grain

[Intro] You hear that? That’s the sound of the pinewoods breathin’. Every breath they take… somebody ain’t takin’ one again. You ain’t from ‘round here, boy. And now… you never will be. [Verse 1] I’m the ghost in the grain, the rope in the shed, The cough in your throat when you smell fresh lead. Ain’t no laws past them black oak lines, Just me, this blade, and a wrath that grinds. You a TikTok cowboy, rhinestone clown, I been cuttin’ motherfuckers since the sun went down. Talk plug? You a middle-school mule, You front pills to teens, I cook meth in the fuel. That city talk gets real quiet out here, When the trees lean in and the dirt draws near. One call, that’s bait in the trap, Now your teeth in my boot and your neck in my wrap. [chorus] You came to the woods, now you ain’t comin’ back, Got a hog pen feast and a pine box track. Fake boys die with their boots still clean, Put a ghost in your throat—Burlap in the scene. Ghost in the grain… (grain…) Ghost in the grain… (never see me again…) [Verse 2] Caught him slippin’ in a lifted Jeep, Talkin’ big shit, now he six feet deep. Had a patch on his vest, said “Backwoods King”— Ain’t never chopped wood, ain’t heard no scream. You a catalog outlaw, dressed for a party, Got tagged in the holler, now your soul smellin’ tarry. I h**g fakes like trophies, gut ‘em like trout, Whole county know—when Burlap out, stay out. I got sins in the silo, bones in the grain, Names scratched deep in the walls of my brain. Every fuckin’ fake I fed to the field, Makes my corn grow fat, and my scars stay healed. [Bridge ] You ever see a man scream with no tongue? You ever smell a body burn in the sun? You ain’t country, you costume. You ain’t outlaw, you out soon. [chorus] ] You came to the woods, now you ain’t comin’ back, Got a hog pen feast and a pine box track. Fake boys die with their boots still clean, Put a ghost in your throat—Burlap in the scene. Ghost in the grain… (ghost in the grain…) Ghost in the grain… (never see me again…) [Outro] Next time you dress like a killer, ask yourself— Can you hear the trees? ’Cause they can hear you.