| Country fried, baptized in gravy
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| Can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya
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| No matter how far that highway goes
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| An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!)
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| If you see it in their eye when they try to lie
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| If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind
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| Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high
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| For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey)
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| I’m out here on a thousand acre plot of land
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| And I can’t hear 'em hatin on me, I’m a modest man
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| Talkin with Jimmy Mathis and he got a plan
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| And when he talk I listen to him, that’s a lot of man (pops!)
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| He said we need to take it back to the root of it
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| I put on for the country, that’s the truth of it
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| I’m talkin last millenium we was reppin it
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| Before anybody had accepted it (anybody!)
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| We introduced 'em to the cooler on the tailgate
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| Full of cold Nattie Light playin «Satellite»
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| A lil' Dave while we misbehave, okay (okay)
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| Once we figured the game out, we go play (go!)
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| The generation of people that love 2Pac
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| And hate, we bangin it in the boondocks
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| Now put your drink in the air if you ain’t scared
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| Dem folks been doin that thang, yeah
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| See me and Bubba, we’ve been doin this a long while
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| It sure seems a lot longer than a country mile
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| Hollywood look good, full of fake friends
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| I never thought we could ever be here again (we back!)
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| Time heals, one fell, one came up
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| Back together son, we gon' tear this thing up
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| A lot of talk cousin, I ain’t gotta name 'em
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| They wanna be us, hell I can’t blame 'em (nah)
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| So looky here, cold beer on the tailgate
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| Been doin this for some years, y’all so late (so late!)
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| Bangin OutKast and a little George Strait
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| Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K
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| E’rything real funny 'til the money come (and then what?)
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| Now they want some (what) when they ain’t wanted none (ohh)
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| And that’s just how the thing go when you get 'er done (how?)
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| We did it son
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| We was drinkin Jim Beam by the handle (handle)
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| Me and Steven heard they’re loadin up ammo (ammo)
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| Bumpin Goodie Mob, real tree camo (camo)
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| This white boy really think he Rambo! |
| (GO!)
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| Cut the beat on, I bet his ass jam though
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| You don’t like it straight to hell is where you can go
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| 12-pointer hangin right above the mantle
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| You don’t like the program? |
| Change the channel (woo!) |