| Hey, It’s a party over here, bring your people to the other side
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| Take them back roads, you might wanna bring your other ride
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| Big chrome wheels, custom paint, that ain’t cuttin' it
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| Knobbys with mud flaps, we be on some other shit
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| Couple hundred cattle and a pond full of southern cat
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| You cain’t tell me nothin' bout barbecue and both of that
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| Meet me in the middle T and show you how we krump it up
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| Hang it in the barn let it cure till that proper stuff
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| Chattanooga shine got me feelin' like Super Smo
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| Take another shot hit the Bourbon, now we super blowed
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| I’ll be in the chicken coop, whose goin' chicken huntin'?!
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| Catch me on the YouTube if you wanna learn ya somethin'
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| Bout this simple southern country boy outta Tennessee
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| Hit me up on Myspace if ya wanna get at me
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| Right around the corner there’s a perfect place for you an me
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| We all call it home but you can call it Tennessee
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| Rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
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| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
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| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
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| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee
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| Rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
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| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
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| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
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| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee
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| Now if ya can’t shoot it, race it, sleep with it, or eat it
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| Down here in Middle Tennessee you just don’t need it
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| Rabbit trap in one, 12 gauge in the other hand
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| And if you don’t love this country boy find another man
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| Need me a Mid Tenn thoroughbred chick
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| That can eat a Granny Smith apple through a picket fence
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| Make me dream about it, won’t quit for days
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| She’s fine as a frog hair split four ways
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| Fresh cut like a hay field, know what I mean?
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| Have you ever seen a country boy so damn clean
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| John Deere tractor, four wheeler or a backhoe
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| Workin' on the farm or rollin' down a backroad
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| Lookin' for a country gal with a lot 'a street smarts
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| Spend a couple thousand of my money down at Walmart
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| Thick legged, thick booty, sweet like tea
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| Baby girl lets go carve our initials in a tree
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| They were rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
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| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
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| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
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| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee
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| Rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
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| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
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| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
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| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee
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| Big ass white boy, boss of the dirt roads
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| Fruit, wine, and sticky, I can get it by the truckload
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| Sippin' on fire water, smokin' on a hog leg
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| Rubbin' on a southern belle, chewin' on a frog leg
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| 'Bout a hundred younguns at the barbecue at noontime
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| After the sun sets it’s straight to the moonshine
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| Single barrel sho, a fishin' pole and a coon hound
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| Capable of turnin' any city to a boom town
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| Smooth Tennessee, care the type that ya love to hate
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| Slick as goat spit, tough as a two dollar pig steak
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| Dogs on the porch, coveralls on the clothes line
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| I be takin' care of things, tell me when it’s go time
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| Better come correct when you step on my grass
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| Let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash
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| Round up a hundred honkeys with just one whistle
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| With a buzz like that I don’t even need a pistol
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| Rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
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| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
|
| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
|
| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee
|
| Rollin' on them back roads, blowin' pine
|
| Sippin' on that moonshine all the time
|
| Party in the back yard, yours or mine
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| (Hey) Either way we just kicking it in Tennessee |