Well, hello there folks, how the hell are you doin':
It's good to be in your local bar again
So let's get loud, we'll get stoned an' get proud,
Have a damn good time until the show's at an' end
Sometimes I'm wired an' sometimes, I'm tired,
But I'm doin' the best that I can
So let's have a drink and a glum with Hank,
An' may the outlaws rise again
Well I'm a son of a son:
I've got a chip of what I've said an' done
Well, I remember watchin' ol' Waylon,
When he was shootin' his shotgun
It's a certain kinda livin',
It's a certain kinda style
Not everybody likes us,
But we we drive some folks wild
-Instrumental Break-
Well I think I'd rather eat the barrel,
Of a double-barrel loaded shotgun,
Than to hear that shit they call pop-country music,
On ninety-eight-point-one
Just so you know, so it's it's set in stone,
Kid Rock don't come from where I come from:
Yeah, it's true, he's a Yank, he ain't no son of Hank:
If you even thought so, god-damn, you're fucking dumb
So let's get real loud:
Let's get stoned and proud
Pour me another shot of whiskey,
An' this one's for the south
It's a certain kinda livin',
It's a certain kinda style
Not everybody likes us,
But we we drive some folks wild
Not everybody likes us,
But we we drive some folks wild
Not everybody likes us,
But we we drive some folks wild