Hey, Mister City Man
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Rollie on your wrist, Nasdaq in your hand
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Rollin' your eyes at my beat-up truck
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Feed in the back, spittin' in my cup
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Both our tags say Tennessee
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I don't know you, I know you don't know me
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But if this red light didn't have to change
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I'd have time to say
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When you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
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I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
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I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
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And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
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Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
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Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
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Revel in the pride of a simple man
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Maybe then you'll understand
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Oh
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I didn't choose my raisin' and you didn't choose yours
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You work in four walls and I'm workin' four-by-fours
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We ain't as different as you think we is, but I didn't pull up sayin'
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"Won't you look at that born rich, fed with a silver spoon, trust fund kid," like you did
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So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
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I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
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I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
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And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
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Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
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Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
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Revel in the pride of a simple man
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Maybe then you'll understand
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Why we say grace, why we hold hands
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Keep a shotgun right by the nightstand
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And why we love a good rain comin' down
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And never leave these so-called backward, backwood, good-for-nothing, hillbilly hick towns
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So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
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I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
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I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
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And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two, yes, you do
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Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
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Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
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Revel in the pride of a simple man
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Maybe then you'll understand
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Oh
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Yeah, then you'll understand
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Come Back As A Redneck
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| Morgan Wallen & HARDY |
