Letras
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 eye 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 hatin' on me, I'm a modest man
Talking wit Jimmie Mathis he got a plan
And when he talk I listen to him, that's a lot of man (Pops)
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 talkin' last millennium we was reppin' it
Before anybody had accepted it (anybody)
We introduced 'em to the cooler on the tailgate
Full of cold Natty Light, playing satellite
A little Dave while we misbehave, okay (okay)
Once we figure the game out, we go play (go)
A generation of people that love 2Pac (Pac)
And Hank, we bangin' it in the boondocks
Now put your drank 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 eye 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 an 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 (nah)
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 eye 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)
Everythang real funny 'til the money come (It was)
Now they want some (What?) and they ain't want it none (oh)
And that's just how the thing go when you get-r-done (How?)
Yeah, we did it son (yeah, we did it son)
We was drinkin' Jim Beam by the handle (handle)
Me and Steven Herndon loadin' up ammo (ammo)
Bumpin' Goodie Mob, Realtree camo (camo)
This white boy really think he Rambo (go)
Cut the beat on I bet his ass jam though
You don't like it, straight to hell is where you can go
Twelve pointer hangin' right above the mantle
You don't like the program change the channel (woo)
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 eye 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)