I'm the son of a third generation drunk

Mama loved us even more with an empty cup,

three on a tree driving grandpappy's ranger

Up to the liquor store stocking up for later

Fight ring after school in a wheat field

Corn-fed fellas thinking they's a big deal

Cops rolled up, swore they'd shut us down

Till Officer Johnson dropped Hunter to the ground

Yeah, we were just a bunch of rowdy-ass kids

Still doing what we did, doing podunk shit

Ready or not, here I am

Just a skoal-ringing, beer-drinking Arkansas man

Don't worry come Sunday He'll forgive you of your sins

It's fixin to get-rowdy in this son of a bitch

It's hard to believe but we sure as hell did

Grow up in the sticks doing podunk shit

Find a limb, find a chain, pull the motor out

Never fix it, just forget it, leave it hanging around

John's getting tatted by his neighbor in a trailer

Revival of the heathens in black around his ankle

Sisters toking out an apple, Daddy's getting pissed

This whole damn house doing podunk shit

Ready or not, here I am

Just a skoal-ringing, beer-drinking Arkansas man

Don't worry come Sunday He'll forgive you of your sins

It's fixin to get-rowdy in this son of a bitch

It's hard to believe but we sure as hell did

Grow up in the sticks doing podunk shit

From the Rockies to the swamps of Louisiana

It's safe to say that I've always been a big fan of hometown folks with just enough crazy

With their own spin on biscuits and gravy

People everywhere just being who they is

All around the world doing podunk shit

Ready or not, here I am

Just a skoal-ringing, beer-drinking Arkansas man

Don't worry come Sunday He'll forgive you of your sins

It's fixin to get-rowdy in this son of a bitch

It's hard to believe but we sure as hell did

Grow up in the sticks doing podunk shit