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Tearin' down a dirt road, rebel flag flyin', coon dog in the back |
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Truck bed loaded down with beer and a cold one in my lap |
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Earnhart sticker behind my head and my woman by my side |
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Tail-pipe's poppin', the radio's rockin', "Country boy can survive" |
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If you got a problem with that, ha, ha, you can kiss my country ass |
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Well, I love Turkey calls, overalls, Wrangler jeans |
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Smoke nothin' but Marlboro reds |
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Tattoos up and down my arms |
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And deer heads over my bed |
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My Granddaddy fought in World War Two |
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But my Daddy went to Vietnam |
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And I ain't scared to grab my gun |
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And fight for my homeland |
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If you don't love the American flag |
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You can kiss my country ass |
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If you're a down home, backwoods Redneck |
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Hey come on, stand up and raise your glass |
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But if you ain't down with my outlaw crowd |
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You can kiss my country ass, aw yeah |
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Aw, yeah |
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Well, there's a whole lotta high-class people out there |
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That's lookin' down on me |
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'Cause the country club where I belong |
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Is a Honky Tonk till three in the mornin' |
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Don't wear no fancy clothes, no ties or three piece suits |
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You can find me in my camouflage cap |
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My T-shirt and cowboy boots |
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If that don't fit your social class |
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You can kiss my country ass |
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If you're a down home, backwoods redneck |
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Hey come on, stand up and raise your glass |
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But if you ain't down with my outlaw crowd |
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You can kiss my country ass |
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Well, I'm a front-porch sittin', guitar pickin', moonshine |
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Sippin' backer juice spittin' country boy from the woods |
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And I love fried chicken and blue gill fishin' |
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And outlaw women and I wouldn't change if I could, no |
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I ain't tryin' to start no fight but I'll finish one every time |
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So you just mind your own damn business |
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Stay the hell outta mine, if you got a problem with that |
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You can kiss my country ass |
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I said, "If you got a problem with any of that |
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You can kiss my natural born, Redneck to the bone |
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Ever lovin' country ass, that's right |