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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Scotty McCreery
Scotty McCreery
Vocals
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Electric Guitar
Derek Wells
Derek Wells
Electric Guitar
Justin Niebank
Justin Niebank
Programming
Wes Hightower
Wes Hightower
Background Vocals
David Dorn
David Dorn
Synthesizer
Ilya Toshinskiy
Ilya Toshinskiy
Acoustic Guitar
Evan Hutchings
Evan Hutchings
Drums
Jimmie Lee Sloas
Jimmie Lee Sloas
Bass Guitar
Larry Franklin
Larry Franklin
Fiddle
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Scotty McCreery
Scotty McCreery
Songwriter
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Songwriter
Cale Dodds
Cale Dodds
Songwriter
Brent Anderson
Brent Anderson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Producer
Derek Wells
Derek Wells
Producer
Aaron Eshuis
Aaron Eshuis
Producer
Justin Niebank
Justin Niebank
Mixing Engineer
Drew Bollman
Drew Bollman
Recording Engineer
Joel Mckenny
Joel Mckenny
Assistant Engineer
Andrew Mendelson
Andrew Mendelson
Mastering Engineer

Songtexte

Jessie's a mechanic, his mother-in-law's a manic His new wife's in a panic, sayin', "When you comin' home?" Danny drives a tractor, left it in the pasture Bosses gettin' madder 'cause he won't pick up the phone Might not be an ivy league Einstein crowd But when it comes to Friday night, man, we got it figured out When the long weeks' pay checks are cashed Where we're gonna spend it, buddy, you ain't gotta ask When the neon lights are kickin' on All of us are headin' to a homе away from home We don't look like much, but wе're pretty damn smart For some good ol' boys that can't pass the bar Bobby's gotta cousin that says he's good for nothin' Always makin' fun of him 'cause he doesn't own a suit Freddy's ex-lady got a new Mercedes From the judge she's datin' down in Baton Rouge He's the book smart, no dart, pool shootin' kind That's why she shows back up every other Friday night When the long weeks' pay checks are cashed Where we're gonna spend it, buddy, you ain't gotta ask When the neon lights are kickin' on All of us are headin' to a home away from home We don't look like much, but we're pretty damn smart For some good ol' boys that can't pass the bar When you're raised out here, you are who you are That two-lane road will only get you so far We can pass around cigars, guitars, and jars But we can't, we can't, can't pass the bar When the long weeks' pay checks are cashed Where we're gonna spend it, buddy, you ain't gotta ask When the neon lights are kickin' on All of us are headin' to a home away from home We don't look like much, but we're pretty damn smart For some good ol' boys that can't pass the bar Just some good ol' boys that can't pass the bar, yeah We can't pass the bar
Writer(s): Cale Dodds, Scotty Mccreery, Frank Rogers, Brent Anderson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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