[Verse 1: Jelly Roll]
Hey country roads, gettin' blow, I don't know which way to go
I ain't got nowhere to be, I'm following my radio
I'm still livin' on the edge, gettin' my money out of bounds
Swervin' in and out of town, and I'm still bumpin' doubt me now
Back to the simple man life, I'm in the basics
The weed that we been blowin' was grown in my cousin's basement
And money to be made, then I'm speedin' to get it
Everybody that I know is sellin' weed for a livin'
On that Tennessee shit, so I'm doin' this for y'all
I speak with a southern drawl, say no ma'am and naw
I'm travelin' the country sometimes feel like I ain't wanted
Never thought that I was country till I went to California
[Chorus: Jesse Whitley]
If we don't believe you, then we ain't seen you
Go around these old back streets
Never had a mason jar of momma's sweet tea
Let me make this clear
If you ain't rode down an old back road
With a open beer and a eighth of dro
Then you don't know a fucking thing about this down here
[Verse 2: Lil Wyte]
Well I'm a sweet tea drinkin' cigarillo rollin' bad ass
Muddin' down a back road, puffin' on some hash wax
You ain't ever met anybody quite like Lil Wyte, quite like Lil Wyte
I spend my winters on the road and my summers in the country
Only hang around with good people that love me
And that's the only thing that keeps my brain alright, my brain alright
'Bout to pop another pill, bumpin' deal or no deal
Me and Jelly Roll drunk on a grassy hill
And everything that we want we gonna do tonight, do tonight
Tell 'em Jeffrey Whitley
[Chorus: Jesse Whitley]
If we don't believe you, then we ain't seen you
Go around these old back streets
Never had a mason jar of momma's sweet tea
Let me make this clear
If you ain't rode down an old back road
With a open beer and a eighth of dro
Then you don't know a fucking thing about this down here
[Verse 3: Colt Ford]
I'ma step onto the stage spittin' hot shit, that cock Glock shit
Make a big boy drop shit, that please don't pop shit
That Colt Ford won't stop shit
Y'all gonna have to call the cops shit
Y'all gonna have to get a mop shit
'Cause I'm gonna tear this thing out the frame
Y'all done let a country boy in the game
See I'm a southern gent, hell bound and whiskey bent
Tote a shotgun and a Bible, that's country boy survival
Jelly Roll said Colt just did it, said him and Lil Wyte's gonna get it
Had room so they let me jump in, hot damn this beat is bumpin'
It's kinda like the three amigos, no attitude ain't no ego
Just came here to get it crunk up, raw shine it's gonna get drunk up
That's just the way I does it, it's all I've ever known
Jelly Roll, Lil Wyte, Colt Ford, good Lord we're gettin' blown
[Chorus: Jesse Whitley]
If we don't believe you, then we ain't seen you
Go around these old back streets
Never had a mason jar of momma's sweet tea
Let me make this clear
If you ain't rode down an old back road
With a open beer and a eighth of dro
Then you don't know a fucking thing about this down here
