Oh my God Becky, look at that buck…
He is so big, [scoff]
He looks like one of those Bambi’s grandpas..
But, ya know, who understands why bucks grow so big? [scoff]
They think it’s just genetics, but,
There’s just so much more than that, ‘kay?
I mean, that buck, he’s just.. so.. big..
I can't believe he’s just so symmetrical.. he must gross like 170!
I mean, you’ve gotta consider weather and nutrition in there.. and that neck roast, look!
I like big bucks and I cannot lie
You other hunters can't deny
That when a deer stands up all outta his bed
With them brown things on his head you get PRONE
Want to pull up tough
'Cause you imagine that shoulder mount stuffed
Deep in the breaks he’s massing
I’m hooked and I can’t stop glassing
Oh baby, I wanna get wit'cha
And take a grip n’ grin pictcha
My homeboys tried to warn me
But that rack you got makes (you, you so horny)
Ooh, Region Seven,
Wanna be non-resident heaven?
Well, shoot does, shoot does
Goin’ home with an empty truck blows
Baby wants racks
I've seen him feedin'
On forbs and browsing seedlins'
He’s a buck, in rut
Lookin’ for some heads to butt
I'm tired of Eastmans’ magazines
Sayin' whitetails are the thing
Take the vocal Montanan and ask:
You want tags or you want big racks?
So, fellas (Yeah!) fellas (Yeah!)
Have you passed on that fork-horn rag? (What? Hell no!)
Tell 'em to ditch it (Ditch it!) ditch it (Ditch it!)
Ditch that general tag
Baby wants racks (trophies over opportunity)
Baby wants racks (trophies over opportunity)
(We want trophies over opportunity)
I like 'em wide, and big
A right ol’ Roman nosed pig
I can't help myself, I'm actin' like an animal
Now here's my scandal
I wanna get a doe
Double-up on does! Uh! A truckload full of does!
I ain't packing out two points
‘Cause ultralight load shelves aren’t made for toys
I want 'em real dark and heavy
So find that juicy double [lung shot]
Montana’s in trouble
Beggin' for a break from the grumble
So I’m lookin’ at what the surveys show
Below average counts, poor fawn ratios
But why the numbers so low?
‘Cause droughts and prairie winters kinda blow
Word to the residents, I get your hesitance,
Those mule deer need replenishmence
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna grunt (tube)
At the break of dawn
This buck’s got it goin' on
A lot of folks won't like this song
'Cause some guys like to gripe and mock,
And I'd rather spot and stalk
‘Cause I hike, and I’m like,
“I'm down to lace my boots up tight”
So, ladies (Yeah!) ladies (Yeah!)
Tired of overrun BMAs? (Hell yeah!)
Then turn around, lease it out
Even outfitters got to shout
Baby wants racks
Baby wants racks
(Crab-claws in the back but still a good rack)
(Crab-claws in the back but still a good rack)
Yeah, FWP, when it comes to mule deer,
CWD risk ain't got nothin' to do with hunter perception
Four by four with 20” inside spread,
Ha ha, only if he’s age three..
So your hunting buddy rolls a Can Am,
Usin’ it to check his trail cams
But your buddy can’t find a buck in that public land bedlam
‘Cuz big bucks don’t want none ‘less it’s secure habitat, son
You can use OnX and e-scout
(But please, so is everyone else)
Some hunters want to pick up sheds
And dream about the year ahead
The bucks drop ‘em, and leave ‘em
And we disturb winter range to retrieve ‘em
But does they need some fat
Well this drought ain't down with that
'Cause fawns born small when their mamas are thin
They’ll never grow up to be big in’
To barstool bios who say “genetics,”
There’s so much more to antler aesthetics
Big-bodied mista, can’t resist ya
Bitterbrush an’ clover didn’t miss ya
Some knuckleheads tried to diss
'Cause the science they all dismiss
They had a shot but chose to pass ‘im
And I pull up quick to blast at ‘im
So gents, if you’ve got buck fever
And don’t wanna just fill your freezer
Dial 1-900-MISSALOT
And kick them nasty thoughts
Baby wants racks