| I cut my exhaust to make her turn her head
|
| Them smiley face KC lights made her laugh
|
| And I spent my last dollar just to take her home
|
| Drivin' back after curfew, hopin' and prayin'
|
| The sheriff wouldn’t pull me over, call my parents
|
| But if he did, oh well, tomorrow I’ma do it all again
|
| Just like every weekend
|
| Our boots stayed muddy, their jeans stayed ripped
|
| We became bigger men with every Copenhagen pinch
|
| Hard-headed as they came, as dirty as we was
|
| I don’t see why them pretty girls rolled in our trucks
|
| We were restless, reckless, and all the above
|
| Tryna draw us attention to paint a picture of love
|
| One thing I know that I thank God for
|
| And that’s country girls
|
| Sweeter than tea, way out of my league
|
| Gave my truck horsepower when she climbed in my seat
|
| My F-250 was a midnight train
|
| Coverin' up the smell of Coors with your White Rain
|
| Wakin' up these neighbors with southern rock and roll
|
| 'Til the needle reads E or the cops get called
|
| Our boots stayed muddy, their jeans stayed ripped
|
| We became bigger men with every Copenhagen pinch
|
| Hard-headed as they came, as dirty as we was
|
| I don’t see why them pretty girls rolled in our trucks
|
| We were restless, reckless, and all the above
|
| Tryna draw us attention to paint a picture of love
|
| One thing I know that I thank God for
|
| And that’s country girls
|
| In every small town
|
| There’s a down-home Dixie dime
|
| And that passenger side truck door
|
| Has been slammed about a thousand times
|
| That’s a hundred goodbyes, times 10 more rides
|
| And only one girl on your mind
|
| Our boots stayed muddy, their jeans stayed ripped
|
| We became bigger men with every Copenhagen pinch
|
| Hard-headed as they came, as dirty as we was
|
| I don’t see why them pretty girls rolled in our trucks
|
| We were restless, reckless, and all the above
|
| Tryna draw us attention to paint a picture of love
|
| One thing I know that I thank God for
|
| And that’s country girls |