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Cheatham County
by
Upchurch
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Lyrics
Man, these boys think they got me You ain't got shit son I'm the Lane Frost of this shit So bring ya ass on in (Hell yeah!) I'm on my country boy shit, hillbilly like it's Beverly Cherry red Chevy, lift kit about a couple feet Roots in my boots and I ain't gotta prove shit Follow me down to my woods, boy and hop off in these stix We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar Well I started from the bottom, now ya honkey got a buzz on Pabst Blue Ribbon, cranking up a thumping country song Tailgating, drinking beer, rolling up that greenery Shooting at the ducks while they passing by my scenery I came up from nothing, now my face in more than 50 states Pedal to the metal, I ain't even gonna tap the brakes And I ain't from the city, I'm from hollers, rivers, creeks, and lakes Redneck as it gets cause this boy ain't time to go in fake Now let me pop that clutch I ain't your man with a plan, know that always crutch I'm that motherf*cking Hoss now, a zero trust Rolling through your damn city in this bucket of rust (Hell yeah!) We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar Nashville-born, small hick town raised On the edge of music row, corn field, wind sways Ford, Dodge, Chevrolet, rust bucket, still plays Everything gets dirty trying to pave that way I ain't never had a hand out, never had a pick me up Budweiser beer bottles breaking in my pickup truck Chip on my shoulder, rocking me a heavy farmers tan Honeys treat me lovely cause I'm popular on Instagram Haters say I'm faking shit, say I'm the flame that's barely lit When I didn't have the management to make sure that I'm well equipped So fingers up and shots on me, famous and I'm twenty three Self-made, son, country boy from middle Tennessee We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar We got clips, we got guns, drive them tires off in this mud I'm from backwoods Cheatham County, boy them three words say it all Dropping bucks, making dollars, small town man down from the holler Middle finger to the world 'cause America's my dollar (Hell Yeah)
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