| Well I wish I had some shoes on my two bare feet
|
| And it’s gettin' kinda cold in these painted on cut off jeans
|
| I hate the way this bikini top chafes
|
| Do I really have to wear it all day? |
| (Yeah baby)
|
| I hear you over there on your tailgate whistlin'
|
| Sayin', «Hey girl»
|
| But you know I ain’t listenin'
|
| Cause I got a name
|
| And to you it ain’t «pretty little thing», «honey"or «baby»
|
| Yeah it’s drivin' me red-red-red-red-red-red-red neck crazy
|
| Bein' the girl in a country song
|
| How in the world did it go so wrong?
|
| Like all we’re good for
|
| Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
|
| Nothing more
|
| We used to get a little respect
|
| Now we’re lucky if we even get
|
| To climb up in your truck, keep my mouth shut and ride along
|
| And be the girl in a country song
|
| Well shakin' my moneymaker ain’t ever made me a dime
|
| And there ain’t no sugar for you in this shaker of mine
|
| Tell me one more time, «you gotta get you some of that»
|
| Sure I’ll slide on over, but you’re gonna get slapped (Hah!)
|
| These days it ain’t easy being that
|
| Girl in a country song
|
| How in the world did it go so wrong?
|
| Like all we’re good for
|
| Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
|
| Nothing more
|
| We used to get a little respect
|
| Now we’re lucky if we even get
|
| To climb up in your truck, keep my mouth shut and ride along
|
| And be the girl in a country song (Yeah, yeah baby)
|
| Aww no, Conway and George Strait
|
| Never did it this way
|
| Back in the old days
|
| Aww y’all, we ain’t a cliché
|
| That ain’t no way
|
| To treat a lady
|
| Like a girl in a country song
|
| How in the world did it go so wrong?
|
| Like all we’re good for
|
| Is looking good for you and your friends on the weekend
|
| Nothing more
|
| We used to get a little respect
|
| Now we’re lucky if we even get
|
| To climb up in your truck, keep my mouth shut and ride along
|
| Down some old dirt road we don’t even wanna be on And be the girl in a country song
|
| («Yeah baby, I ain’t your tan legged Juliet.
|
| Can I put on some real clothes now?»)
|
| Aww, no |