Lyrics Praise the Lord - Breland, Thomas Rhett

Praise the Lord

Praise the Lord for southern women, Hemi engines, crispy chicken
Praise the Lord for east Atlanta, Country Grammar, and my nana
Praise the Lord that I got everything I want and need and more
I might turn up on Saturday, but first thing Sunday morn
I praise the Lord
Praise the Lord for sister Julie, big ol' hat and tambourine
She keeps playing when we’re shoutin', doesn’t know that she’s off beat
Praise the Lord for my bartender, turns a single into two
We went crazy out there last night, we need saving in this pew
It don’t matter how you worship, sinner, saint, win or lose
Praise the Lord for southern women, Hemi engines, crispy chicken
Praise the Lord for east Atlanta, Country Grammar, and my nana
Praise the Lord that I got everything I want and need and more
I might turn up on Saturday, but first thing Sunday morn
I praise the Lord
He rockin' with me that’s for sure
Praise the Lord
He rockin' with me that’s for sure
Praise the Lord
Praise the Lord for my three babies and the one that’s on the way
All the words up in the good book and dirt up on my Chevrolet
Praise the Lord for Sunday morning and paycheck Friday afternoons
For cold beer conversations and broken cowboy boots
It don’t matter how you worship, sinner, saint, win or lose
Praise the Lord for southern women, Hemi engines, crispy chicken
Praise the Lord for east Atlanta, Country Grammar, and my nana
Praise the Lord that I got everything I want and need and more
I might turn up on Saturday but first thing Sunday morn
I praise the Lord
He rockin' with me that’s for sure
Praise the Lord
He rockin' with me that’s for sure
Praise the Lord