A dirt road
A cold beer
A blue jeans
A red pickup
A rural noun, simple adjective

No shoes
No shirt
No Jews
You didn't hear that
Sort of a mental typo

I walk and talk like a field hand
But the boots I'm wearing cost three grand
I write songs about riding tractors
From the comfort of a private jet

I could sing in Mandarin
You'd still know I'm pandering
Hunting deer, chasing trout
A Bud Light with the logo facing out

Hear that subtle mandolin
That's textbook pandering
I own a private ranch that I rarely use
I don't like dirt

[Spoken:]
One verse, one chorus in the bag
Now it's time to talk to the ladies
I am hoping my Southern charm offsets all these rape-y vibes I'm putting out

Good girl
In a straw hat
With her arms out in a corn field
That is a scarecrow
Thought it was a human woman, sorry

A cold night
A cold beer
A cold jeans
Strike that last one

I'm wanting you
I hope you're feeling me
Subtextually

We go to bed, you doze off
So I take your country girl clothes off
I put my hands on your body
It feels like hay,
It's a fucking scarecrow again

Like Mike's Evander-ing
Fuck your ears, I'm pandering
I write songs for the people who do
Jobs in the towns that I'd never move to

Legalize gerrymandering
Tolerate my pandering
You got a beautiful mouth
I got a beautiful

You dumb motherfuckers want a key change?

Thematically meandering
Emphatically pandering
I got a tight grip on my demo's balls
Say the word "truck", they jizz in their overalls

You don't know what land you're in
I'm in the land of pandering
And I'll be upfront
I do what I do 'cause I'm a total fucking cunt-ry boy

IMPRIMER LES PAROLES