I got some Black Label Jack in a brown paper sack in the console.
Got a twelve pack in the back in my oil field camo cooler, got it ice cold.
I've been fourteen gone, I'm finally back home. There ain't but one thing that I wanna do.
Is get down where the river bends on the sandbar with my friends and drown these roughneck blues.
Drop the gate on the truck,
Turn the radio on.
Everybody's yellin, "Turn it up, that's my song."
Jam a little Skynyrd and Hank, top it off with a little Frank
And when the sun falls out of sight,
You can bet your boots we gonna throw back a few tonight.
Cause there ain't nothing wrong with getting right.
You got some pretty southern women dancing around in their bare feet.
And these two piece tan-lines showing in the sunshine are killing me.
And these seven dollar shades are worth every dime I paid cause they're hiding my wondering eyes.
I spend my hard-earned money on these hicktown honeys. Y'all welcome to the good life.
Drop the gate on the truck,
Turn the radio on.
Everybody's yellin, "Turn it up, that's my song."
Jam a little Skynyrd and Hank, top it off with a little Frank
And when the sun falls out of sight,
You can bet your boots we gonna throw back a few tonight.
Cause there ain't nothing wrong with getting right.
All we wanna do is have us a good time.
A little whiskey, a little beer, a little bit of that apple pie moonshine.
Drop the gate on the truck,
Turn the radio on.
Everybody's yellin, "Turn it up, that's my song."
Jam a little Skynyrd and Hank, top it off with a little Frank
And when the sun falls out of sight,
You can bet your boots we gonna throw back a few tonight.
Cause there ain't nothing wrong with getting right.
Oh we're gettin right tonight!