Country Folks (feat. Colt Ford)

Country fried, baptized in gravy
Can't wash off what the good Lord made ya
No matter how far that highway goes
An old dirt road will get you home (come on)
If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie
If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind
Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high
For my country folk (hey)
My country folk (hey)

I'm out here on a thousand acre plot of land
And I can't hear 'em hating on me, I'm a modest man
Talking with Jimmie Matheson he got a plan
And when he talk I listen to him, that's a lot of man
He said we need to take it back to the root of it
I put on for the country that's the truth of it
I'm talking last millennium we was repping it
Before anybody had accepted it (anybody)

We introduced them to the cooler on the tailgate
Full of cold natty light playing satellite
A little Dave while we misbehave okay
Once we figure the game out we go play
A generation of people that love Tupac
And Hank, we banging it in the boondocks
Now put your drink in the air if you ain't scared
Them folks been doing that thing, yeah

Country fried, baptized in gravy
Can't wash off what the good Lord made ya
No matter how far that highway goes
An old dirt road will get you home (come on)
If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie
If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind
Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high
For my country folk (hey)
My country folk (hey)

See me and Bubba, we been doin' this a long while
It sure seems a lot longer than a country mile
Hollywood look good, full of fake friends
I never thought we could ever be here again (we back)
Time heals, one fell, one came up
Back together son, we gon' tear this thing up

A lot of talkers, and I ain't gotta name 'em
They wanna be us, hell, I can't blame 'em
So looky here, cold beer on a tailgate
Been doing this for some years, y'all so late (so late)
Bangin' OutKast and a little George Strait
Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K

Country fried, baptized in gravy
Can't wash off what the good Lord made ya
No matter how far that highway goes
An old dirt road will get you home (come on)
If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie
If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind
Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high
For my country folk (hey)
My country folk (hey)

Everything really funny 'til the money comes
Now they want some (what?)
And they ain't want it none (oh)
And that's just how the thing go when you get it done (how?)
We did it son, yeah, we did it son

We was drinkin' Jim Beam by the handle
Me and Steven heard they loading up ammo
Bumping goodie mob, Realtree Camo
This white boy really think he Rambo
Cut the beat on, bet his ass jam though
You don't like it? Straight to hell is where you can go
12 pointer hanging right above the mantel
You don't like the program change the channel

Country fried, baptized in gravy
Can't wash off what the good Lord made ya
No matter how far that highway goes
An old dirt road will get you home (come on)
If you see it in their eyes when they try to lie
If you the bullet hole in a stop sign kind
Then I'm right there witcha, put ya drinks up high
For my country folk (hey)
My country folk (hey)