Bratty

Trailer Park Trashy

If you’re trailer park trashy  
Then why does your mom  
Drive something flashy?  
She must be selling that hash, she—  
Must be selling ass—she  
Don’t even know your dad-dy.  


Yeah, we’re broke as hell, can’t even afford a lie,  
Mama’s working hard while daddy’s chasing high,  
Brother’s locked up, got a cell for a home,  
Church kicked him out, said he’s better alone.  
They don’t know the story, they just see the mess,  
Judging from the outside, can’t see the stress.  
Daddy claims another kid, but won’t give us a cent,  
Sends her money, but won’t even pay our rent. 

If you’re trailer park trashy  
Then why does your mom  
Drive something flashy?  
She must be selling that hash, she—  
Must be selling ass—she  
Don’t even know your dad-dy.  


Every night it’s a show, 
fights echo off trailer windows,
Yelling ‘bout the past, 
throwing punches, broken glass 
They choose me when they need to confide, 
I got the weight of the word when 
they demand I pick a side 
Mama loves him still, but he’s lost in his vice,  
Shooting steroids, thinking it’ll fix his life.  
Both of \'em blame, but it’s a twisted game,  
Talking trash ‘bout each other,
 I love ‘em, but it’s a shame.  

They don’t see the struggle, they don’t feel the pain,  
Just a kid in the middle, trying to break the chain.  
I’m tired of the judgment, of the whispers and the stares,  
‘Cause behind all the chaos, there’s love that still cares.  
So I’ll keep defending, through the thick and the thin,  
In this trailer park life I’m living in 

If you’re trailer park trashy  
Then why does your mom  
Drive something flashy?  
She must be selling that hash, she—  
Must be selling ass—she  
Don’t even know your daddy.