Letra de Country Band Man

Paroles de la chanson Country Band Man :
Well, I live back in the woods you see
I got a 5-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 a fire just writin this song
Got my family and friends right where we belong
Got some peer 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 grandaddy’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
Guitar solo:
Laugh, Drums, Rap:
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 5-star plant standin 50 feet
Down an old dirt road off of Interstate 10
Bring a 20 pack, Dime sack, Pary begins