Country Folks - Bubba Sparxxx, Colt Ford, Sarah Ross

Country fried, baptized in gravy

Can’t wash off what the good Lord made ya

No matter how far that highway goes

An old dirt road’ll get you home (c'mon!)

If you see it in their eye when they try to lie

If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind

Then I’m right there wit’cha, put your drinks up high

For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey)

I’m out here on a thousand acre plot of land

And I can’t hear 'em hatin on me, I’m a modest man

Talkin with Jimmy Mathis and he got a plan

And when he talk I listen to him, that’s a lot of man (pops!)

He said we need to take it back to the root of it

I put on for the country, that’s the truth of it

I’m talkin last millenium we was reppin it

Before anybody had accepted it (anybody!)

We introduced 'em to the cooler on the tailgate

Full of cold Nattie Light playin «Satellite»

A lil' Dave while we misbehave, okay (okay)

Once we figured the game out, we go play (go!)

The generation of people that love 2Pac

And hate, we bangin it in the boondocks

Now put your drink in the air if you ain’t scared

Dem folks been doin that thang, yeah

See me and Bubba, we’ve been doin this a long while

It sure seems a lot longer than a country mile

Hollywood look good, full of fake friends

I never thought we could ever be here again (we back!)

Time heals, one fell, one came up

Back together son, we gon' tear this thing up

A lot of talk cousin, I ain’t gotta name 'em

They wanna be us, hell I can’t blame 'em (nah)

So looky here, cold beer on the tailgate

Been doin this for some years, y’all so late (so late!)

Bangin OutKast and a little George Strait

Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K

E’rything real funny 'til the money come (and then what?)

Now they want some (what) when they ain’t wanted none (ohh)

And that’s just how the thing go when you get 'er done (how?)

We did it son

We was drinkin Jim Beam by the handle (handle)

Me and Steven heard they’re loadin up ammo (ammo)

Bumpin Goodie Mob, real tree camo (camo)

This white boy really think he Rambo!

(GO!)

Cut the beat on, I bet his ass jam though

You don’t like it straight to hell is where you can go

12-pointer hangin right above the mantle

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Change the channel (woo!)