Way Down South

We goin' way down, way down, way down south

We goin' way down, way down, way down

Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more

Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more

Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down

We goin' way down

I'm a workaholic, alcoholic, everything-aholic

Hillbilly, bumpkin, whatever name you call it

My mama smokes Winstons and my daddy drinks wine

The Muscadine kind, and I love 'em, they mine

I got a big sister named Ginger that'll whip your ass

Quick, fast, this is something that you should know

We ain't just from down there, we're from out there

No newspaper, we ain't on their route, yeah

Yeah, country, no city water

No pizza, man, we didn't even get the order

But we workin', we ain't afraid of labor

When the works done, we wakin' up the neighbors

And they live a half a mile away from us

We crank it up louder, wishin' they would say somethin'

But, they wouldn't anyway, 'cause they on the way

Will we be alive tomorrow? We can only pray

We goin' way down, way down, way down south

We goin' way down, way down, way down

Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more

Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more

Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down

We goin' way down

We comin' at you live from the bottom

Right-hand corner, 55° weather

But the summer like a sauna, man

You could cut the humidity with a husk of corn

(Country)

Damn skippy, can't wash it off ya

Hard-working daddy, mama mighty bossy

They don't like me runnin' with my buddy, Bubba

We be gettin' saucy

Like some good ole boys know to do 'round these parts

Whiskey sips got us fit to be tied

Pitching more than a hissy fit

Wide open spaces, out in the sticks

I'm in La Grange tryin' to holler at some dixie chicks

Don't get mad at me Natalie, I'm just tipsy as piss

We goin' way down, way down, way down south

We goin' way down, way down, way down

Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more

Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more

Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down

We goin' way down

South

Way down, like Jones County

We candy cane, doin' it like it ain't

Lemme say it now, the replay on the rounds is Bubba, Danny and me

And we comin' to tear it down, and then we raisin' a banner

And we ain't takin' it down, we crankin' the music louder

We makin' it shake the ground and down and down

Hey, what you know about them loud-ass crackers, the gentlemen of the south

While we hangin' outta windows and ridin' 'round the town

In a black Duramax jacked way up off the ground

Smoke stacks, big grips, hips and bottle lifts

Drink bottles to the bottom 'cause we take big sips

And little bitty hips, but here that's a fact

Move your bottom, better get it together, now bring it back, y'all

We goin' way down, way down, way down south

We goin' way down, way down, way down

Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more

Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more

Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down

We goin' way down

South

We goin' way down

South