| Well, in North Carolina, way back in the hills |
| Me and my old pappy had a hand in a still |
| We brewed white lightnin' 'til the sun went down |
| Then he’d fill him a jug and he’d pass it around |
| Mighty, mighty pleasin', pappy’s corn squeezin' |
| White lightnin' |
| Well, the «G» men, «T» men, the revenuers, too |
| Searchin' for the place where he made his brew |
| They were looking, tryin' to book him |
| But my pappy kept a-cookin' |
| White lightnin' |
| Well, I asked my old pappy why he called his brew |
| White lightnin' 'stead of mountain dew |
| I took a little sip and right away I knew |
| As my eyes bugged out and my face turned blue |
| Mighty, mighty pleasin', pappy’s corn squeezin' |
| White lightnin' |
| Yeah, the «G» men, «T» men, the revenuers, too |
| Searchin' for the place where he made his brew |
| They were looking, tryin' to book him |
| My pappy kept a-cookin' |
| White lightnin' |
| Well, a city slicker came and he said, «I'm tough» |
| I think I wanna taste that powerful stuff |
| He took one slug and drank it on down |
| And I heard him a moaning as he hit the ground |
| Mighty, mighty pleasin', pappy’s corn squeezin' |
| White lightnin' |
| Yeah, the «G» men, «T» men, the revenuers, too |
| Were searchin' for the place where he made his brew |
| They were looking, tryin' to book him |
| My pappy kept a-cookin' |
| White lightnin' |