From the recording Country Musics Preacher's Here
Lyrics
These country boys
Well they drink beers and chase honkytonk women
Eat deer and miss fishin'
Non family tradition
Folsom Prison walk the line
All dirt gravel roads were made for drivin’ fast
Yeah this is fuggin’ best
Life
That's a fuggin’ muggin’ fact
I hate cityfide morons too
I want a house a piece of land for me ’n you
We deserve a bunch money from corn bread and planted rows
Redneckas wanna earn a dime or two
Don't be mad
Trucks should be diesels a fuggin’ muddy blast
If you disagree well my momma never whipped my ass
Huh I guess she never tried
Man stick a fork in those tryin’ to be country
You’re being denied
Yeah got that rebel shit kicker right
I'm not too good for solo cups
Momma's homemade fried chicken it doesn't suck
Boots are made to get scuffed up
How you like sass
Oh kiss my ass
Yeah my neck is red
John Deere’s are green
If you're as country as I am
With a shit kicker PhD yeah that’s me
I love deer stands ’n deer blinds
I want a house on a piece of land
I deserve a fishin’ boat
But I don't wanna joke
Rednecka's American flag
Yeah
Yeah
Red blue ’n white stars stripes
Trucks pickup style
Have a beer set back a while
Rodeo's bullshitz rides
Oh damn barrel racing rodeo queens daisy dukes worn out boots
Country's damn good music
Yeah you got that shitz right
Saturdays can't beat Friday's neon nights
These country boys
Gotcha hook line ’n sinker
If ya don't like us no worries
Here’s my middle finger
No worries I got two for you