Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Firewater, artist - Redneck Souljers. Date of issue: 05.11.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Firewater |
| Kentucky bound, gallon of that moonshine |
| Fuck 'em to the 5−0 I’m from a long line |
| Of country boys that do this shit in their spare time |
| You can read the pedigree and DNA my bloodline |
| Jammin' Willie Nelson 'bout to get my smoke on |
| You don’t want me stressin', me and Hubb are smoked on |
| 'Bout to hit that thump keg, waltz and nearly break my leg |
| Break the freakin' walls down, open bottles, tap the kegs |
| Man, we 'bout go (Go) wild in this thang |
| Haulin' like the freakin' Cherokee and Meros from the grave |
| Rain dancin', pedal mashin', you can’t get this out my system |
| Hit you with a case boo, split your ass right down the middle |
| (I'll tell 'em) I’ll split your ass right down the middle |
| Told 'em, we play Texas Hold 'em, fold 'em |
| In it to, our cousin told 'em, Poe said he ain’t kin to you |
| Bobbleton is Winton, got that 'shine and a fish or two |
| Honkey man up out the brothel tryna get a bitch or two |
| Tennessee legends (Yeah we are) cookin 'shine (What we doin') |
| In the moon, got the firewater brewin' (Shine) |
| Spring water coolin' (Yeah) liquor movin' (Boes) |
| Crank that fire I’ma show you how we do it |
| Got that corn mash pourin', drag it out the forest |
| Pedal to the floor 'cause them boys say there be more tin |
| Batch to a bottle make an ugly women gorgeous |
| So much 'shine 'bout to make our ass a fortune |
| Hubb in this motherfucker drunk as hell, plum lit |
| And I brung a bag of goodies with a skunky smell, 'sum bitch |
| You see the GMC outside? |
| Man I’m feelin' fine, my whip |
| All the tillers are tillin' you know the women are willin' |
| To meet a country boe baby, I’m here, get it |
| Cabin in the woods I’m in it |
| Tree stand in the backyard, I’m in it |
| Southern like my drawl that’s the way I’m livin' |
| Never seen a moonshine still this busy |
| Got the mash on cook mode, never been a crook tho |
| Trynna get my cash up stacked 'til I hit the roof |
| Said a country hick will ever rap for shit |
| But here I am in a straw hat spittin' the truth, like damn (Woo) |
| Headlights, hit the 4-lane |
| Burnin' rubber like it’s soaked in propane |
| Our notoriety grow like Rogain |
| Pass opponents, like the shit’s my forte |
| Ain’t slowin' down for one minute |
| I’ll paint a picture so vivid with the shit I sang in these lyrics (Yeah) |
| My boes back at the hideaway, got the liquor still a drippin' (Yeah) |
| If you sneak up on 'em your ass a goner, you gonna come up missin' (Yeah) |
| Done told ya son, get off my land, better not catch you slippin' (Yeah) |
| And you’d probably lose your mind if you see my girl skinny dippin' (Hell yeah) |
| (Yellllloooww) |
| O-U-T L-A-W, Kentucky’s where I be, yeah |
| Got a jar of firewater, drop you to your knees fast |
| Packin' dips and grab her tits and kickin' off the trees man |
| Camo paint up on my face, can’t see me in my tree stand |
| I’m a big at slingin' arrows, fillin' up some whiskey barrels |
| Got a 'shine empire, run it like a Force Feral |
| Y’all know we some country fellas, all my boes be hollerin' yellow |
| Come and… fuck… damn, the shine is mellow |
| Comin' through the woods with my dog Banjo |
| Runnin' up to Tennessee to see my boes |
| Tar’s in the keg, callused toes |
| C-Hubb with a crick pick, pickin' his nose |
| 'Bout to make a run, drinkin' homemade wine |
| Boys from the mountain with some dang good 'shine |
| So we filled up the jars and we dealed in the cars |
| Drove off and we left a cloud of dust behind |
| Yeah, we took the 'shine and we drove it to the mountain |
| Firewater brewin' it was flowin' like a fountain |
| ATF was lookin', they was hatin', we was doubtin' |
| That they would come around and here the thump keg poundin' |
| Tennessee legends (Yeah we are) cookin 'shine (What we doin') |
| In the moon, got the firewater brewin' (Shine) |
| Spring water coolin' (Yeah) liquor movin' (Boes) |
| Crank that fire I’ma show you how we do it |
| Got that corn mash pourin', drag it out the forest |
| Pedal to the floor 'cause them boys say there be more tin |
| Batch to a bottle make an ugly women gorgeous |
| So much 'shine 'bout to make our ass a fortune (Fortune, fortune, fortune) |
| (Fortune, fortune, fortune) |
| So much 'shine 'bout to make our ass a fortune (Fortune, fortune, fortune) |