| I'm American-made:
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| Bud Light, Chevrolet.
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| My momma taught me wrong from right.
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| I was born in the South.
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| Sometimes I have a big mouth
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| When I see something that I don't like.
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| I gotta say it.
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| Well, we've been driving this road
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| For a mighty long time,
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| Paying no mind to the signs.
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| Well, this neighborhood's changed.
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| It's all been re-arranged.
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| We left that dream somewhere behind.
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| Slow down. |
| You're gonna crash.
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| Baby, you're a-screaming. |
| It's a blast, blast, blast.
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| Look out! |
| Babe, you've got your blinders on.
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| Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| But there's a new cat in town.
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| He's got high-paid friends,
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| Thinks he's gonna change history.
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| You think you know him so well.
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| Yeah, you think he's so swell,
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| But he's just perpetuating prophecy.
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| Come on now.
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| Slow down. |
| You're gonna crash.
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| Baby, you're a-screaming. |
| It's a blast, blast, blast.
|
| Look out! |
| You've got your blinders on.
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| Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Uh.
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| Well, you can say what you want,
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| But you can't say it 'round here,
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| 'Cause they'll catch you and give you a whipping.
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| Well, I believe I was right,
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| When I said you were wrong.
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| You didn't like the sound of that.
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| Now, did you?
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| Slow down. |
| You're gonna crash,
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| Baby, you're a-screaming. |
| It's a blast, blast, blast.
|
| Look out! |
| You've got your blinders on.
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| Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.
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| Well, here I come, and I'm so not scared.
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| Got my pedal to the metal, got my hands in the air.
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| Look out! |
| You take your blinders off.
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| Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Real gone.
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| Ooh.
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| Real gone.
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| Real gone. |