Apparaît dans

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Scotty McCreery
Scotty McCreery
Chant
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Guitare électrique
Derek Wells
Derek Wells
Guitare électrique
Justin Niebank
Justin Niebank
Programmation
Wes Hightower
Wes Hightower
Chœurs
David Dorn
David Dorn
Synthétiseur
Ilya Toshinskiy
Ilya Toshinskiy
Guitare acoustique
Jimmie Lee Sloas
Jimmie Lee Sloas
Basse
Larry Franklin
Larry Franklin
Violon folklorique
Evan Hutchings
Evan Hutchings
Batterie
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Scotty McCreery
Scotty McCreery
Paroles/Composition
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Paroles/Composition
Cale Dodds
Cale Dodds
Paroles/Composition
Brent Anderson
Brent Anderson
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Production
Derek Wells
Derek Wells
Production
Aaron Eshuis
Aaron Eshuis
Production
Justin Niebank
Justin Niebank
Ingénierie de mixage
Drew Bollman
Drew Bollman
Ingénierie de prise de son
Joel McKenney
Joel McKenney
Assistance d’ingénierie
Andrew Mendelson
Andrew Mendelson
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

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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