You're singing a song about making love to your drummer, well gay guitar pickers don't turn me on.

They let dangerous men out of prison now, yes sir, I'm afraid it's so. Cause they're over crowded and it was only his fifth offense.

I'd love to spit some Beechnut in that dude's eye and shoot him with my ole forty-five.

We say grace and we say ma'am. If you ain't in to that, we don't give a damn.

Let me sum it up for ya: We got some people who work for a living, and we got some people who vote for a living.

Now if you shoot someone, sir, you can get off Scott free. It's the latest thing Mr. Lincoln, can you believe?

We make our own whiskey and our own smoke, too. Ain't too many things these ole boys can't do.