I like Big Bucks - 30oz Black Tumbler
Oh my God Nigel, look at that buck
It is so big, he looks like
One of those rural guys' trophies
But, ya know, who understands those rural guys?
They only stalk him, because
He looks like a total monster, okay?
I mean, this buck, it's just so big
Uh, I can't believe it's just so pointy, it's like out there
I mean, uh, gross, look
It’s just such a big…rack
I like big bucks and I cannot lie
You other hunters can't deny
That when a deer walks by with a ten point mace
And a white tail in your face
You get cocked, want to stop in your truck
'Cause you noticed that buck was stuck
With those crazy antlers he’s maintainin’
I'm hooked and I can't stop aimin’
Oh Bambi, I wanna get wit'cha
And take your picture
Game warden tried to warn me
But that rack you got (it—it’s so horny)
Ooh, rack-o'-venison
You say you want to hang in my den?
Well, don’t need a story
'Cause you ain't that average quarry
I've seen him prancin' In the brush advancin'
He's sweat, wet
And he’s showin’ his big assets
I'm tired of ecologists
Pushing does for harvest
Take the average hunter and ask him that
He gotta pack much rack
So, fellas (yeah) fellas (yeah)
Is your trophy a big buck? (buck yeah)
Tell 'em to shoot it (shoot it) shoot it (shoot it)
Shoot that monster buck
Bambi got rack
Bambi got rack
I like 'em brown, and big
And when I'm fingerin' my trig
I just can't help myself, I'm starin’ at that animal
And his huge head-handles
I wanna get ya home
And ugh, hung-up, ugh, ugh
I don’t care ‘bout Pope and Young
Just so long as that big buck is hung
I want 'em real thick and pointy
So find that pointy double
Big Frig is in trouble
Beggin' for a piece of that nubble
So I'm lookin' at huntin’ videos
Knock-kneed yearlings lookin' like does
You can have them does I'll hold onto my ammo
A word to the thick-pole misters, I want to get with ya
I won't grunt or rattle
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna (bang)
At the break of dawn Bambi got it goin' on
A lot of simps won't like this song
'Cause them punks like to gun and run
And I'd rather aim at game
That has more for gross score
And be my living room decor
So, deer (yeah) deer (yeah)
If you wanna be my chandelier (yeah)
Put your head down, stick it out
Even city boys got to shout
Bambi got rack
Bambi got rack
Yeah, Bambi, when it comes to whitetails
Sierra Club ain't got nothin' to do with my selection
Gross score of 96?
Ha ha, only if it’s just one side
So the state drew you a doe tag, that ain't nothin' about to brag
'Cause you can't bag no monster stag with a doe tag
My .308 mag don't want none
Unless you've got horns, son
You can do your rubs and scrapes
But please don't shed that rack
Some hunters just want the meat
And tell you that antlers ain't on fleek
So they toss it and leave it
And I pull up quick to retrieve it
I don’t need a reason
When it’s whitetail season.
'Cause your tines are sharp and your curves inspirin'
And I'm thinkin' bout firin'
To the woke elite all protesting
Sayin’ huntin’ ain’t your thing
Put up a tree stand, I’m up in it
And I’m gonna hit my limit
Some knuckleheads shoot and miss
But their shooters are on my list
They see game but they couldn’t bag 'em
And I pull up quick, hit, and tag 'em
So cervids, if the rut is on
And you wanna be my fawn
Add one more to my body count
And be my bedroom mount
Bambi got rack
Bambi got rack
