| I got my pistols in my pocket boys I’m
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| I’m Alabama bound
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| I got my pistols in my pocket boys I’m
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| I’m Alabama bound
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| Well I’m not looking for no trouble
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| But nobody dogs me 'round
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| Well I’m going to fetch my woman, people
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| Tri-cities here I come
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| Oh well I’m going to fetch my woman, people
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| Tri-cities here I come
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| 'Cause she was raised up on that cornbread
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| And I know that woman’ll give me some
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| Give me some baby
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| Oh when this kid hits Alabama, people
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| People, don’t you try and dog him 'round
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| Now when this kid hits Alabama, people
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| Don’t you try and dog him 'round
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| 'Cause if you people cause me trouble
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| Then I’ve got to put you in the ground
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| Well I was born in Mississippi
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| And I don’t take any stuff from you
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| Well I was born in Mississippi
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| And I don’t take any stuff from you
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| And if I hit you on your head
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| Boy, it’s got to make you black and blue
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| Well I ride to Alabama
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| With my pistols out about my side
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| Well I ride to Alabama
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| With my pistols out about my side
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| 'Cause down in Alabama
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| You can run, but you sure can’t hide. |