Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Country Folks, artist - Bubba Sparxxx. Album song Mud Digger 5, in the genre Кантри
Date of issue: 18.05.2014
Record label: Average Joes Entertainment
Song language: English
Country Folks |
Country fried, baptized in gravy |
I can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya |
No matter how far that highway goes |
An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!) |
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie |
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind |
Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high |
For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey) |
I’m out here on a thousand acre plot of land |
And I can’t hear 'em hatin' on me, I’m a modest man |
Talkin' with Jimmy Mathis and he got a plan |
And when he talk I listen to him, that’s a lot of man (pops!) |
He said we need to take it back to the root of it |
I put on for the country, that’s the truth of it |
I’m talkin' last millenium we was reppin' it |
Before anybody had accepted it (anybody!) |
We introduced 'em to the cooler on the tailgate |
Full of cold Nattie Light playin' «Satellite» |
A lil' Dave while we misbehave, okay (okay) |
Once we figured the game out, we go play (go!) |
The generation of people that love 2Pac |
And hate, we bangin' it in the boondocks |
Now put your drink in the air if you ain’t scared |
Dem folks been doin' that thang, yeah |
Country fried, baptized in gravy |
I can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya |
No matter how far that highway goes |
An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!) |
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie |
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind |
Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high |
For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey) |
See me and Bubba, we’ve been doin' this a long while |
It sure seems a lot longer than a country mile |
Hollywood look good, full of fake friends |
I never thought we could ever be here again (we back!) |
Time heals, one fell, one came up |
Back together son, we gon' tear this thing up |
A lot of talk cousin, I ain’t gotta name 'em |
They wanna be us, hell I can’t blame 'em (nah) |
So looky here, cold beer on the tailgate |
Been doin' this for some years, y’all so late (so late!) |
Bangin' OutKast and a little George Strait |
Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K |
Country fried, baptized in gravy |
I can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya |
No matter how far that highway goes |
An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!) |
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie |
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind |
Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high |
For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey) |
E’rything real funny 'til the money come (and then what?) |
Now they want some (what) when they ain’t wanted none (oh) |
And that’s just how the thing go when you get 'er done (how?) |
We did it son (yeah we did it son) |
We was drinkin' Jim Beam by the handle (handle) |
Me and Steven heard they’re loadin' up ammo (ammo) |
Bumpin' Goodie Mob, real tree camo (camo) |
This white boy really think he Rambo! (Go!) |
Cut the beat on, I bet his ass jam though |
You don’t like it straight to hell is where you can go |
12-Pointer hangin' right above the mantle |
You don’t like the program? Change the channel (woo!) |
Country fried, baptized in gravy |
I can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya |
No matter how far that highway goes |
An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!) |
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie |
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind |
Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high |
For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey) |