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
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
Credits
Writer(s): James Welch, Lamar Puryear, Jordan Newman, James Leake
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.