Hey, Mr. City Man Rollie on your wrist, Nasdaq in your hand Rollin' your eyes at my beat-up truck Feed in the back, spittin' in my cup Both our tags say Tennessee I don't know you, I know you don't know me But if this red light didn't have to change I'd have time to say
When you die, I hope you come back as a redneck I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot Sun tattoo I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two Catch the holy ghost on a pinewood bench Drive across the county just to hook up a winch Revel in the pride of a simple man Maybe then you'll understand, oh
I didn't choose my raisin', and you didn't choose yours You work in four walls, and I'm workin' 4x4s We ain't as different as you think we is But I didn't pull up sayin' Won't ya look at that born-rich fed With a silver spoon, trust fund kid Like you did
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot Sun tattoo I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two Catch the holy ghost on a pinewood bench Drive across the county just to hook up a winch Revel in the pride of a simple man Maybe then you'll understand
Why we share grass Why we hold hands Keep your shotgun right by the nightstand Bible of a good man comin' down And never leave these so-called backward backwood Good for nothin' hillbillies hick towns
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot Sun tattoo I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two Yes, you do Catch the holy ghost on a pinewood bench Drive across the county just to hook up a winch Revel in the pride of a simple man Maybe then you'll understand Oh Yeah, then you'll understand
Compositor: Morgan Wallen / Hardy / ERNEST / Charlie Handsome / James Maddocks