Country Folks (feat. Colt Ford & Danny Boone)

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 will get you home (come on) If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind Then I'm right there witcha, put ya 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 hating on me, I'm a modest man Talking with Jimmie Matheson he got a plan And when he talk I listen to him, that's a lot of man 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 talking last millennium we was repping it Before anybody had accepted it (anybody) We introduced them to the cooler on the tailgate Full of cold natty light playing satellite A little Dave while we misbehave okay Once we figure the game out we go play A generation of people that love Tupac And Hank, we banging it in the boondocks Now put your drink in the air if you ain't scared Them folks been doing that thing, yeah 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 will get you home (come on) If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high For my country folk (hey) My country folk (hey) See me and Bubba, we 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 talkers, and I ain't gotta name 'em They wanna be us, hell, I can't blame 'em So looky here, cold beer on a tailgate Been doing 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 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 will get you home (come on) If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high For my country folk (hey) My country folk (hey) Everything really funny 'til the money comes Now they want some (what?) And they ain't want it none (oh) And that's just how the thing go when you get it done (how?) We did it son, yeah, we did it son We was drinkin' Jim Beam by the handle Me and Steven heard they loading up ammo Bumping goodie mob, Realtree Camo This white boy really think he Rambo Cut the beat on, bet his ass jam though You don't like it? Straight to hell is where you can go 12 pointer hanging right above the mantel You don't like the program change the channel 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 will get you home (come on) If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high For my country folk (hey) My country folk (hey)