| I am a Southern boy and I was brought up to treat everybody with respect
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| And though I do my best you know sometimes it’s mighty hard
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| When folks use the 'R' word to talk about my neck
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| They use that 'R' word when they talk about my neck
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| All across this nation an effort’s bein' made to be so politically correct
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| It applies to almost every creed and nationality
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| But they still use the 'R' word when they talk about my neck
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| They still use the 'R' word when they discuss my neck
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| CHORUS
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| Call me a hillbilly, call me country-fried
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| And I will not object
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| Call me farm boy and I’ll take that with pride
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| Just don’t use the 'R' word when you talk about my neck
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| Don’t use that 'R' word in reference to my neck
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| That little word don’t bother me at all when it is used
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| Describing a sunset or a wine
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| But surely they could find some less offensive substitute
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| When referring to the cervical region of my spine
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| That verbal combination just gets me every time
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| REPEAT CHORUS
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| Call me a clodhopper, call me a stump jumper, call me a pain in the tail
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| Call me antiquated, backwater cracker, call me Ishmael
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| Call me a knuckle draggin', inbred honky, call me a slack-jawed hick
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| Call me an addle-brained, shallow-minded boondocker, I don’t mind a bit
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| Well that’s all I’ve got to say, that’s all she wrote, come on gang
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| Let’s bring her home |