I move through the big city, to make a little better money, then get back home.
|
Now here I am living in a little sub-division, surrounded by steal and stone.
|
I¡¯ve got a neighbor, he¡¯s a lawyer, his wife can be his daughter, he don¡¯t know what to think of me.
|
¡®cause sight my boe on a styrofoam door by the hole on the 18 green.
|
|
¡®cause I ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet, still got a blue collar and a red neck,
|
Got a gun rack in the back window of my four wheel drive.
|
A country boy can survive.
|
I say, hey, y¡¯all, in a reckon so, with a mossy oak from head to toe
|
This corn fed corn bread country as a boy can get.
|
No, I ain¡¯t out, ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet.
|
|
Oh, I¡¯m a living hell, baby.
|
|
I¡¯ve got a manicured lawn and a concrete palm where my buddies all like to hang
|
We fire up the smoker, get some pretty girls over crank the hank and let her shake that thang.
|
And when them old coors ripe and the sqeekers start to biten, all the neighbors is turning in.
|
We¡¯ll be blacking out the shine in this hell yeah time ¡®till the sun comes up again.
|
|
¡®cause I ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet, still got a blue collar and a red neck,
|
Got a gun rack in the back window of my four wheel drive.
|
A country boy can survive.
|
I say, hey, y¡¯all, in a reckon so, with a mossy oak from head to toe
|
This corn fed corn bread country as a boy can get.
|
No, I ain¡¯t out, ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet.
|
¡®cause you of the Conway, sweet tea all day, if you don¡¯t know what I mean
|
I¡¯ll be sipping on some shine, putting clothes on the line, eating corn bread and butter, babe.
|
|
¡®cause I ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet, still got a blue collar and a red neck,
|
Got a rack right in the back window of my four wheel drive.
|
A country boy can survive.
|
I say, hey, y¡¯all, in a reckon so, with a massyo from head to toe
|
This corn fed corn bread country as a boy can get.
|
No, I ain¡¯t out, ain¡¯t out of the woods, yet.
|
|
-----------------
|
Ain't Out Of The Woods Yet
|
| Colt Ford |