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branddo - don't understand lyrics
[chorus]
my first rifle was a .243 (winston parvick, put the gun down and come to the door)
that papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
i still fly that southern flag
whistlin’ dixie ridin’ up to bragg
and i know all the words to simple man
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
[verse 1: branddo]
[?] i’m livin’ when i’m chillin’ with the folk
chewin’ the fat, blowin’ the smoke
back porch chillin’ watch them horseshoes throw
marinatin’ the hills, yeah tennessee soak
mountain folk in the east let me get one star
highlanders in the middle let me get two stars
no lights in the west let me get three stars
and for the mississippi river let me get a blue bar
over 30,000 dead in the mexican war
let us bow our head give ’em respect
that’s my flag boy, every [?]
[?] tennesseee ain’t got no meanin’ but
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
and you better believe that i guessed that
when you hear that *gun c-ck* don’t tressp-ss
and i don’t really give a d-mn what you gotta say
got muddy water in my veins
been this way since day one
let them tell that that boy done changed
well okay, okey doke, i ain’t got time for your do-si-do
rodeo, hokey poke, put two middle fingers in and close the door
i got a 4×4, crank it up then hit the road
i’m gone headed back to the cut
i don’t give a d-mn if you judge my book motherfucker
i know that i’m country but
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
so call it whatever you want to call it
but i promise you never gonna k!ll it partner
[chorus]
i still fly that southern flag
whistlin’ dixie ridin’ up to bragg
and i know all the words to simple man
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
[verse 2: upchurch]
if my grandpa was here he’d prolly trip off of my self success
or give me major hell ’cause of the new tattoos i go and get
still be drinkin’ rc colo smokin’ winston cigarettes
messin’ with them game roosters, payin’ bills by gamblin’
i reflect off his way of life, it made me the man i am tonight
i won’t go startin’ any shit, but boy i finish plenty fights
run these backroads plenty nights, poppin’ caps in old stop signs (i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand)
radio cranked to 99, i’m cruisin’ doin’ 55
alcohol up on my breath, i’m playin’ games with dotted lines
me and dad fought all the time and momma told me go and shine
so i picked me up and i brushed me off and i told my spirit don’t get lost
promised i would do my best and reach the top by any cost
this mainstream ain’t a part of me, dixie runs up in my veins
my music is the man and the man was made that way where i’m from
sleep in the south [?] gun, six 45 bullets like it is tombstone (i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand)
riders held up like an old outlaw van, then let the chorus say the rest
[chorus]
i still fly that southern flag
whistlin’ dixie ridin’ up to bragg
and i know all the words to simple man
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
(it’s shotgun shane, let’s go)
[verse 3: shotgun shane]
i do this for my people out there workin’ 9 to 5
strugglin’ to pay the rent, i’m talkin’ openin’ sacrifice
i respect the trops, men in blue, firefighters too
and the ones that took the charge instead of snitchin’ on you
i bleed red white and blue, i’m the southern old [?]
and if you seem to have a problem
you’re the problem ’cause you’re racist
i’m just a blue collar redneck and i love my boots (i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand)
flag flyin’, bible totin’, stickin’ to my roots
and all i want to do is make my friends and family proud
i’ve been an outlaw on the run
ain’t got no time for settlin’ down
and mason dixon’s in my blood
that southern flag keep it flyin’ high
go to go and get it ’cause life moves fast
and if you don’t it’ll p-ss you by
got a lot of friends stab me in my back
gotta pick and choose who’s fake who’s true
better cross those tracks to the other side
got a lot of folks like me and you
i was tennessee raised in an old small town (i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand)
but we work for a livin’ but we all get down, tell ’em
[chorus]
i still fly that southern flag
whistlin’ dixie ridin’ up to bragg
and i know all the words to simple man
i guess that’s somethin’ you don’t understand
my first rifle was a .243 (put the gun down and come to the door)
that papa gave daddy and daddy gave to me
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