Country Band Man

Well, I live back in the woods, you see
 I got a five-star-plant standin' 50 feet
 Down an old dirt road off of Interstate 10
 Bring a 20 pack, dime sack, party begins
 Got a shotgun and a box of birds
 Hop up out the truck and ask what's the good word
 Got shrooms in the pasture, growin' up some laughter
 If the cops show up, then it really don't matter
 Around the fire just writin' this song
 Got my family and friends right where we belong
 Got some pure pressure, but just come as you are
 You can pass out in the yard, now you're sleepin' with the stars
 Dream about the streets of gold
 Livin' in the past, hope I never grow old
 Passin' time on my granddaddy's land
 I started shootin' the shit, then I started a band
 'Cause I'm a country band man
 Smokin' weed, cookin' contraband
 I grew up in the southern land
 Playin' guitar with my calloused hands
 Well, I'm a country band man
 Smokin' weed, cookin' contraband
 I grew up in the southern land
 Still workin' with my calloused hands
 ♪
 Check this out, I'm 'bout to speak a little truth
 About some good ol' boys that were brought up in the Lou
 See I'm the country band man, you know I grew up in the southern land
 High demand, supply demand, 'cause I'm a fuckin' rider man
 Red lining in a GMC, Sierra Classic baby, back when gas was cheap
 While we were popping the tabs, the girls were losin' their tops
 Hittin' G-Spots, steadily dodgin' the cops
 Across the levy brah, down an old gravel road
 Shit, we can go to Jamie's house, 'cause daddy ain't home
 Yeah, we were undercover lovers, hidin' bitches under covers
 Fuck the others, they just smother, make our girlfriends baby mothers
 All we needed was some time, didn't even cut the lights off
 Legs soft, eat it raw, she's runnin' like a chainsaw
 Couple extra rooms, I got a couple extra women
 Skinny dippin', finger slippin', definition easy livin'
 Well, I'm a country band man
 Smokin' weed, cookin' contraband
 I grew up in the southern land
 Playin' guitar with my calloused hands
 Well, I'm a country band man
 Smokin' weed, cookin' contraband
 I grew up in the southern land
 Still workin' with my calloused hands
 Well, I'm a country band man
 Smokin' weed, cookin' contraband
 I grew up in the southern land
 Still workin' with my calloused hands
 Well, I live back in the woods, you see
 I got a five-star-plant standin' 50 feet
 Down an old dirt road off of Interstate 10
 Bring a 20 pack, dime sack, party begins