| I slipped you a little red man
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| Hit the lake and cast a line
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| Hold the door and say yes ma’am
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| Gas up my four wheel drive
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| I keep Alan Jackson playing on the radio
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| Where did all the good old boys go
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| Somebody’s gotta party til the stars burn out
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| Wear some wore out boots in a high class crowd
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| All my rowdy buddies keep settlin' down
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| Somebody’s gotta be country in this town
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| Somebody’s gotta be country in this town
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| Yeah I take up two spots
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| 'Cause my truck don’t fit
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| And I represent the math God
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| Every chance I get
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| No my dirt road heart won’t every be paved
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| Am I the only one these days
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| Who still likes to party til the stars burn out
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| Wear some wore out boots in a high class crowd
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| All my rowdy buddies keep settlin' down
|
| Somebody’s gotta be country in this town
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| Keep a zebco in the toolbox
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| Keep it retro on the jukebox
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| Yeah somebody’s gotta back up traffic on an old John Deere
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| Drink a center console ice cold beer
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| And keep that old school hanging around
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| Somebody’s gotta be country
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| Somebody’s gotta party 'til the starts burn out
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| Wear some wore out boots in a high class crowd
|
| All my rowdy buddies keep settlin' down
|
| Somebody’s gotta be country in this town
|
| Somebody’s gotta be country
|
| Somebody’s gotta be country in this town
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| Somebody’s gotta be
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| I reckon that’s me |