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lirik lagu country band man – framing the red

well, i live back in the woods you see,
i got a 5-star plant standin 50 feet,
down an old dirt road off of interstate 10,
bring a 20 pack, dime sack, party begins,

got a shotgun and a box of birds,
hop up out the truck and ask what’s the good word,
got shrooms in the pasture,
growin up some laughter,
if the cops show up, then it really don’t matter,

around a fire just writin this song,
got my family and friends right where we belong,
got some peer pressure but just come as you are,
you can p-ss out in the yard,
now you’re sleepin with the stars,

dream about the streets of gold,
livin in the past hope i never grow old,
p-ssin time on my grandaddy’s land,
i started shootin the sh-t, then i started a band,

cause i’m a country band man,
smokin weed, cookin contraband,
i grew up in the southern land,
playin guitar with my calloused hands,

well, i’m a country band man,
smokin weed, cookin contraband,
i grew up in the southern land,
still workin with my calloused hands,

guitar solo:
laugh, drums, rap:

check this out, i’m bout to speak a little truth,
about some good ol boys, that were brought up in the lou,
see i’m the country band man, you know i grew up in the southern
land,
high demand, supply demand, cause i’m a f-ckin rider man,
red lining in a gmc, sierra cl-ssic baby, back when gas was
cheap,
while we were popping the tabs, the girls were losin their tops,
hittin g-spots, steadily dodgin the cops,
across the levy brah, down an old gravel road,
sh-t, we can go to jamie’s house, cause daddy ain’t home,
yeah, we were undercover lovers, hidin b-tches under covers,
f-ck the others, they just smother, make our girlfriends baby
mothers,
all we needed was some time, didn’t even cut the lights off,
legs soft, eat it raw, she’s runnin like a chainsaw,
couple extra rooms, i got a couple extra women,
skinny dippin, finger slippin, definition easy livin,

well, i’m a country band man,
smokin weed, cookin contraband,
i grew up in the southern land,
playin guitar with my calloused hands,

well, i’m a country band man,
smokin weed, cookin contraband,
i grew up in the southern land,
still workin with my calloused hands,

well, i live back in the woods you see,
i got a 5-star plant standin 50 feet,
down an old dirt road off of interstate 10,
bring a 20 pack, dime sack, pary begins.

- framing the red

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