Excuse me, young man. What you doing down here by this water? We just fishing, sir. Just casting out a line. You got written permission from Trey Taylor? No sir, we don't. Crew Tractor? I thought this was state property, man. We just parked by the bank in the grass. State? State property? Hit the road, dude! This ain't no state property! This is private property! Pack your tackle, put your tailgate down, You messing round the wrong side of town. Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, working on the line, You standing on dirt that will never be thine! A man just called my phone, Said, Trey, they fishing in your pond! What you wanna do with 'em? He said: Lock 'em up. Lock 'em up! Hubert Jones! Hubert Jones! Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, turn the key, Private property, you can't be free! Hubert Jones! Lock 'em up, lock 'em up, get on home! Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, move along! Hit the road, dude, pack your tackle box up quick, You sitting on a bank where the water runs thick! Got a cane pole out, tryna pull another bass, Now look at that expression painted on your face! This ain't no state property, this is private land, You looking at the man with the deed in his hand! Got the gravel on the drive, got the lock on the gate, You out here trespassing, talking 'bout the state! Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, sitting in the lot, You picked the wrong Saturday to pick this spot! We didn't see no yellow sign, mister. We only got two plastic worms and a spinner. Don't care 'bout your worm, don't care 'bout your line, You stepped past the fence, you crossed the line! He called Trey Taylor on the radio band, Said there's two young boys standing on your land! What's the verdict, Trey? Tell 'em what to do! He said: Lock 'em up! Lock 'em up! Hubert Jones! Hubert Jones! Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, roll the ditch! Hubert Jones! This ain't the state, you found the ditch! Crew Tractor, Crew Tractor, shut it down! Lock 'em up, lock 'em up, out of town! Hubert Jones! Got your cooler in the mud, got your bucket full of worms, Now we gotta talk about legal little terms! You talking 'bout the state like it's free for all, Till Hubert pulled up in the coverall! Crew Tractor hats, got the keys in the truck, You casting off the dock, man, you plain out of luck! I know the sheriff, know the judge in town, So reel that monofilament line right down! Told ya once, told ya twice, private ground, Hubert Jones running this whole side of town! Crew Tractor... Crew Tractor... Hubert Jones... Hubert Jones... Hubert... Jones... My name Hubert. Hubert Jones. Private property, son. Told ya. Trey said lock 'em up. Now hit the road, dude.
