[INTRO]
That gravel path ain’t just a road,
It’s lined with eyes and traps that load.
Every branch know what side it’s on,
And the still got watchers from dusk to dawn.
They brought rules, we brought ropes,
They brought pens, we brought scopes.
Ain’t no courthouse deeper than clay,
Out here we decide who stay.
[VERSE 1]
Old Joe run the ridge with a crowbar grin,
He don’t speak, just buries sin.
Cousin Maude plantin’ signs in code,
Three nails slanted mean don’t go.
The sheriff’s cousin still takes our shine,
He know damn well not to cross that line.
But them rookies? Full of pride and piss—
Till they vanished by the logging ditch.
[chorus]
This Hollow Law got bark and bite,
No black robe, just pine and night.
Steel in hand and b***d in bark,
You come too far, you don’t leave marked.
This Hollow Law ain’t bound by books,
We judge by fire, by sound, by looks.
They cross that line, we draw that claw—
Arkansas hills got Hollow Law.
[VERSE 2]
Ain’t no backup once you breach,
Just a squirrel call and a buzzard screech.
Hollow kin don’t need no badge,
We built justice outta rust and ash.
Old lady Nettie still sharp with lead,
Carves initials in the ones who bled.
Even the preacher don’t step too wide—
He bless the pine where they bodies hide.
[chorus]
This Hollow Law got bark and bite,
No black robe, just pine and night.
Steel in hand and b***d in bark,
You come too far, you don’t leave marked.
This Hollow Law ain’t bound by books,
We judge by fire, by sound, by looks.
They cross that line, we draw that claw—
Arkansas hills got Hollow Law.
[VERSE 3]
Signs scratched deep on the shotgun stock,
Each one earned in a midnight knock.
Outsiders pray, but they too slow—
We already got ‘em down below.
New badge think he run this land,
But his trail got marked by Burlap’s hand.
They ain’t caught on to the rhythm yet—
But they gonna feel it with bayonets.
[chorus]
This Hollow Law got bark and bite,
No black robe, just pine and night.
Steel in hand and b***d in bark,
You come too far, you don’t leave marked.
This Hollow Law ain’t bound by books,
We judge by fire, by sound, by looks.
They cross that line, we draw that claw—
Arkansas hills got Hollow Law.
[OUTRO]
Signs scratched deep on the shotgun stock,
Each one earned in a midnight knock.
Outsiders pray, but they too slow—
We already got ‘em down below.
[OUTRO]
New laws crack, but ours still stands,
Etched in bone and burlap hands.
Hollow don’t bend, Hollow don’t thaw—
Out here, boy, we are the law.
