Outback (feat. The Lacs & Durwood Black)

Everything we do, we do it outback

Backyard half-charred ribs on a rack

Back road running

Getting dirty on the track

Backwoods gunning hitting birdies by the pack

Everywhere we go

We go to the back

Backyard bars serving jars full of batch

Back  under the moon with the tailgate back

In the back of the saloon, where the jukebox at

Out back where the forest is thick

There's a circle in the middle of a field where a bonfire's lit

Cup full of shine, Copenhagen in my lip

Now I'm dippin' sideways, probably wake up in a ditch

So crank that music into the night

And crack that beer and raise it high

Stacked little blonde want a midnight ride

Take her back to the country for a real good time

Everything we do, we do it outback

Backyard half-charred ribs on a rack

Back road running

Getting dirty on the track

Backwoods gunning hitting birdies by the pack

Everywhere we go, we go to the back

Backyard bars serving jars full of batch

Back under the moon with the tailgate back

In the back of the saloon where the jukebox at

Got me stepping in manure every time I spit, shit

Feel like cash in the photo with the bird getting flipped

Came from the bottom so they label me a catfish

Worldwide, better grab you an atlas

Bonfire lit like Willie, let's smoke

Rack full of ribs in a smoker full of oak

Blackberry brandy off back in the duck blind

Black lab running got hunting in his bloodline

Came from outback, but I'm back in the lead

Back like a rack full of fat double Ds

Back with a barrel on a rack, let me squeeze

Back on the trigger, hit her right between the knees

Back with a toe strap, I pull 'em real heavy

Ladies getting dirty out back on the Chevy

Dive bar beauty queen, Bubba call 'em Betties

Pedal to the metal, baby girl, I'm ready

Everything we do, we do it outback

Backyard half-charred ribs on a rack

Back road running

Getting dirty on the track

Backwoods gunning hitting birdies by the pack

Everywhere we go, we go to the back

Backyard bars serving jars full of batch

Back under the moon with the tailgate back

In the back of the saloon where the jukebox at

Tell 'em 'bout a burn pile, hand on me and my honey

We could run a game shoes, we could lose a little money

Might talk a little smack, grab a sip of that Jack

Bunch of jacked-up trucks all parked round back

Yeah, get loose like ya do it up in Cali

Shine so smooth like ya cruising in the Caddy

Then we rolled us up a fatty went around to the shed

I had to back up off it, it was buzzin' my head

See, I'm back in the Mac, I'm in the back with the lacks

Get all these bags in the sacks, know how them hackin' the xan

See, I'm partyin' to death with Bacardi on my breath

I'm thinking naughty to myself about the shawty on my left

Yeah, we still outback, it's the country outcast

Thinkin' you can out-rap, yeah, bitch, I doubt that

Meet us all out back and we'll whoop that loud ass

'Cause we're brining country back quicker then a snap back

Everything we do, we do it outback

Backyard half-charred ribs on a rack

Back road running

Getting dirty on the track

Backwoods gunning hitting birdies by the pack

Everywhere we go, we go to the back

Backyard bars serving jars full of batch

Back under the moon with the tailgate back

In the back of the saloon where the jukebox at

Everything we do, we do it outback

Backyard half-charred ribs on a rack

Back road running

Getting dirty on the track

Backwoods gunning hitting birdies by the pack

Everywhere we go, we go to the back

Backyard bars serving jars full of batch

Back under the moon with the tailgate back

In the back of the saloon where the jukebox at