| Hey, people, y’all gather 'round,
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| oh yes we’re talking to you,
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| We wanna tell y’a little story
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| 'bout the mother of all bands
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| and the music you’re listening to.
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| We had hard times, no money, no luck,
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| but we kept on play’n it cool,
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| and we finally made it up to the top,
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| we’re high achievers, high believers.
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| Hey dear friends, you charmed our luck,
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| we wanna thank you
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| so much.
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| We wanna go on keepin' the fingers crossed,
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| now let me tell you something:
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| We’re the real BossHoss
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| We got our fans in the front
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| and there ain’t no doubt,
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| they really rock the flock
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| and they can be real loud.
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| Hey, so cool, and if you don’t mind
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| here’s the Golden Rule:
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| God loves cowboys, believe it or not
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| (so if you mess with BossHoss)
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| (you mess with God)
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| We are, we are, we are
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| We’re the glorious seven
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| wouldn’t you agree,
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| hit you like pure electricity.
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| We are, we are, we are
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| victorious, notorious
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| proud and loud so hear this out:
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| God loves cowboys, believe it or not
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| (so if you mess with BossHoss)
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| (you mess with God)
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| Time flies by, while we pull the plow
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| so in the last nine years we pulled
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| a lot of big crowd.
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| Since «Rodeo Radio» blew you in
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| 'em good old days,
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| we said quite a lot, still got a lot to say.
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| So to those out there
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| wo thougt we be already off,
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| before we even walk out
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| of a small town country club.
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| Hey sucker, we still got class
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| nearly ten years at the top
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| so kiss our ass!
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| So called managers,
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| you little sharks in the pound
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| F off we don’t need you —
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| No more!
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| We’re still movin' and groovin'
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| and yet we’ve never lost.
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| Tell us what time it is:
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| BossHoss’o’clock!
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| We got our troopers in the team
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| and there ain’t no doubt,
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| they now a thing 'bout being loud
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| so come on now shout:
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| «Hey, you’ve been to school,
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| let’s put it down now, here’s the golden rule:»
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| God loves cowboys, believe it or not
|
| (So if you mess with BossHoss)
|
| (you mess with God)
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| we’re the glorious seven
|
| would’nt you agree,
|
| hit you like pure electricity.
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| victorious, notorious,
|
| proud and loud,
|
| so hear this out:
|
| God loves cowboys, believe it or not
|
| (So if you mess with BossHoss)
|
| (you mess with God)
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| we’re the glorious seven
|
| would’nt you agree,
|
| hit you like pure electricity.
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| victorious, notorious,
|
| proud and loud,
|
| so hear this out:
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| we’re the glorious seven
|
| would’nt you agree,
|
| hit you like pure electricity.
|
| We are, we are, we are,
|
| victorious, notorious,
|
| proud and loud,
|
| so hear this out:
|
| God loves cowboys, believe it or not
|
| (So if you mess with BossHoss)
|
| (you mess with God)
|
| (So if you mess with BossHoss)
|
| (you mess with God) |