| Well in North Carolina, way back in the hills
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| Lived my pappy and he had him a still
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| He brewed white lightning 'till the sun went down
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| And then he’d fill him a jug, an' pass it around
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| Mighty, mighty pleasin', you’re pappy’s corn squeezin'
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| White Lightning
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| Yeah, the G-men, T-men, revenurers too
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| Searchin' for the place where he made his brew
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| They were lookin', tryin' to book him
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| But my pappy kept on cookin'
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| White Lightning
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| Well I asked my pappy why call it brew
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| White lightning, 'stead of mountain dew
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| I took on sip and then I knew
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| As my eyes bugged out and my face turned blue
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| Mighty, mighty pleasin', you’re pappy’s corn squeezin'
|
| White Lightning
|
| Yeah, G-men, T-men, revenuers too
|
| Searchin' for the place where he made his brew
|
| They were lookin', tryin' book him
|
| But my pappy kept on cookin'
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| White Lightning
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| Well, a city slicker came, and said «I'm mighty tough.»
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| «I think I want to taste that powerful stuff.»
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| He took one s. |
| slug and he drank it right down
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| And I heard him a-moanin' as he hit the ground
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| Mighty, mighty pleasin', you’re pappy’s corn squeezin'
|
| White Lightning
|
| Yeah, G-men, T-men, revenuers too
|
| Searchin' for the place where he made his brew
|
| They were lookin', tryin' book him
|
| But my pappy kept on cookin'
|
| White Lightning! |