Big Smo Kickin It In Tennessee Lyrics


Kickin' It In Tennessee by Big Smo

Hey, it's a party over here
Bring your people to the other side
Take them back roads
You might wanna bring your other ride

Big chrome wheels, custom paint
That ain't cutting it
Knobbys with mud flaps
We be on some other shit

Couple hundred cattle and
A pond full of southern cat
You cain't tell me nothing
'Bout bar-b-que and both of that

Meet me in the middle T and
Show you how we krump it up
Hang it in the barn
Let it cure 'til that proper stuff


Chattanooga shine
Got me feeling like Super Smo
Take another shot hit the bourbon
Now we super blowed

I'll be in the chicken coop
Whose going chicken hunting'?!
Catch me on Youtube if ya
Wanna learn ya something

Bout this simple southern
Country boy outta Tennessee
Hit me up on Myspace if ya
Wanna get at me

Right around the corner there's
A perfect place for you an me
We all call it home but you can
Call it Tennessee

[Hook:]
Rollin' on them back roads
Blowin' pine
Sipping on that moonshine
All the time
Party in the back yard
Your's or mine
(Hey)
Either way we just
Kickin' it in Tennessee

Rollin' on them back roads
Blowin' pine
Sipping on that moonshine
All the time
Party in the back yard
Your's or mine
(Hey)
Either way we just
Kickin' it in Tennessee

Now if ya cain't
Shoot it, Race it, Sleep wit it, Or eat it
Down here in Middle Tennessee
Ya just don't need it

Rabbit trap in one
12 gauge in the other hand
And if ya don't love this country
Boy find another, Man

Need me a Mid Tenn
Thoroughbred chick
That can eat a Granny Smith apple
Through a picket fence

Maybe dream about it
Won't quit for days
She's fine as a frog hair
Split four ways

Fresh cut like a hay field
Know what I mean?
Have you ever seen a country
Boy so damn clean

John Deere tractor
Four wheeler or a backhoe
Workin' on the farm or
Rollin' down a back-road

Looking for a country gal with
A lot 'a street smarts
Spend a couple thousand of
My money down at Wal-Mart

Thick legged, thick booty
Sweet like tea
Baby girl lets go carve our
Initials in a tree

[Hook x2]

Big ass white boy
Boss of the dirt roads
Fruit, wine, and sticky
I can get it by the truckload

Sippin' on fire water
Smokin' on a hog leg
Rubbin' on a southern belle
Chewin' on a frog leg

'Bout a hundred youngins at
The Bar-b-que at noontime
After the sun sets it's straight
To the moonshine

Single barrel shot
A fishin' pole and a coon hound
Capable of turnin' any city
To a boom town

So Tennessee ain't the type that
Ya love to hate
Slick as goat spit
Tough as a two dollar pig steak

Dogs on the porch
Coveralls on the clothes line
I be takin' care of things
Tell me when it's go time

Better come correct when
You step on my grass
Let your mouth write a check
That your ass cain't cash

Round up a hundred
Honkeys with just one whistle
With a buzz like that
I don't even need a pistol

[Hook x2]

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