| It’s Friday night, the parking lot
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| Behind the Dew Drop Inn
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| There’s Dwight and Duane
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| And Jimmie James, the best and worst of friends
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| They don’t behave like they were raised
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| To act by mom and dad
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
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| Sippin' whiskey from a dixie cup
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| And lyin' to each other 'til long past sun up
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| Playin' stud with two weeks pay
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| Well that’s okay
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| They wake up late and have to ask
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| What kind of time they had
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
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| The ladies come, the ladies go
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| They never seem to stay
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| The boys’ll give 'em plenty
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| But they won’t give their hearts away
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| But when they leave, at least they leave
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| Unsatisfied not sad
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
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| Sippin' whiskey from a dixie cup
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| And lyin' to each other 'til long past sun up
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| Playin' stud with two weeks pay
|
| Well that’s okay
|
| They wake up late and have to ask
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| What kind of time they had
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
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| They wake up late and have to ask
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| What kind of time they had
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
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| Well, maybe they ain’t growin' up
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| They’re only growin' old
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| 'Cause underneath their outlaw skin
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| There beats a heart of gold
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| They need their fun 'cause everyone’s
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| A school of hard knocks grad
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| Oh lord, them good ol' boys ain’t bad
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| Sippin' whiskey from a dixie cup
|
| And lyin' to each other 'til long past sun up
|
| Playin' stud with two weeks pay
|
| Well that’s okay
|
| They wake up late and have to ask
|
| What kind of time they had
|
| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
|
| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad
|
| Oh lord, them good ol' boys are bad |