| I fish, I dip, I flip the script
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| Mow grass, whoop ass, that’s country shit
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| Got a microphone in my left hand
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| Jack in my right and I’m raisin' it
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| I cuss, I fight I drink a bit
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| Boots on, hat down, I’ll sip a fifth
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| If that’s the shit you don’t like
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| Well tough tits that’s how I live!
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| I Mow, I till, got Bud Light on chill
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| I fish, I grill, boe that’s just how I live because
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| I roll, I ride, got mud on all four tires
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| Said I roll, I ride, it’s goin' down tonight, 'cause
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| I Mow, I till, got Bud Light on chill
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| I fish, I grill, boe that’s just how I live because
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| I roll, I ride, got mud on all four tires
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| Said I roll, I ride, it’s goin' down tonight
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| I Mow, I till, this homegrown is killin me, I fish, I grill
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| This country girl is feelin' me, and speakin' of killin' things
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| I’m about to go second degree and kill the track and eat it up
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| I’m A blue tick with a pedigree
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| I’m ridin' through a dirty trail, in daddy’s old green pickup, its a 96
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| Still splittin' sticks, I run the farm in this truck. |
| (yeah)
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| And in the woods C-Hubb will get that buck, I ain’t stuck in a rut
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| I’m about to make it jump, you can call this thing mud 'cause I’m bouta kick it
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| up!
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| Hubb is bringin' chicken and the liquor and the women and it’s lookin like
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| we’re winnin' so I’m rollin' through the finish line
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| Got my fishin line by my two mile road hidden in them pines
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| Till we finally find the bonfire and them country folk
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| There’s plenty beer and a water hole, so we drinkin' swingin' off the rope
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| We grillin' up some chicken wings
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| There’s daisy dukes on them pretty things
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| Ain’t everybody met yet but we all reppin' Tiller Gang (Yeah)
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| Picture that, we in the woods, way off the map
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| And if we finish off the beer, good thing I brought this fifth of Jack
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| I roll, I ride, just got a brand new tiller bow
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| I can, survive, a country boy with the 4-wheel drive
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| And the lake, is live, got the catfish jumpin' out that bitch
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| Now cast, a line, gotta tell ya how I live just one more time
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| At the Franklin County small engine, I holler at ole' Joe Owens
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| Yeah he knows them damn motors, 'bouta get my mower goin'
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| Like the Tennessee river we flow, plant seed now watch it grow
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| Turn on the grill and watch it smoke, drink cold beer while chillin' on the boat
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| (Here we go) One more time, let me see y’all crank them tines
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| Crack that jack, kick them raps, yeah unwind like a ball of twine!
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| Now who am I? |
| Fatt Tarr, got the shine in the jar, shoulda been president
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| Now go get me my damn guitar
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| Hell, don’t make me tell you twice
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| Cause this buzz got me feelin nice
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| Got the coolers, got the grill
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| And Bigg Johns bouta get the ice
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| Yeah, it’s goin down tonight
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| Big ole' fire let’s get it right, then we’re huntin' in the morning
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| Yeah we love this southern life, 'cause
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| I Mow, I till, got Bud Light on chill
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| I fish, I grill, boe that’s just how I live because
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| I roll, I ride, got mud on all four tires
|
| Said I roll, I ride, it’s goin' down tonight, 'cause
|
| I Mow, I till, got Bud Light on chill
|
| I fish, I grill, boe that’s just how I live because
|
| I roll, I ride, got mud on all four tires
|
| Said I roll, I ride, it’s goin' down tonight, 'cause
|
| I Mow, I till, got Bud Light on chill
|
| I fish, I grill, boe that’s just how I live because
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| I roll, I ride, got mud on all four tires
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| Said I roll, I ride, it’s goin' down tonight, 'cause |