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)