Lyrics

[Chorus: Kyle Cook] We goin' way down, way down, way down south We goin' way down, way down, way down Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down We goin' way down (D-Boone Demun Jones woo) [Verse 1: Bubba Sparxxx] I'm a workaholic, alcoholic, everything-aholic Hillbilly, bumpkin, whatever name you call it My mama smokes Winstons and my daddy drinks wine The Muscadine kind, and I love 'em, they mine I got a big sister named Ginger that'll whip your ass Quick, fast, this is something that you should know We ain't just from down there, we're from out there (Out there) No newspaper, we ain't on their route, yeah (Yeah) Yeah, country, no city water (Nope) No pizza, man, we didn't even get the order (Nope) But we workin', we ain't afraid of labor (Yup) When the works done, we wakin' up the neighbors (Come on) And they live a half a mile away from us We crank it up louder, wishin' they would say somethin' (Please) But, they wouldn't anyway, 'cause they on the way Will we be alive tomorrow? We can only pray [Chorus: Kyle Cook] We goin' way down, way down, way down south We goin' way down, way down, way down Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down We goin' way down [Verse 2: Danny Boone] We comin' at you live from the bottom Right-hand corner, 55° weather But the summer like a sauna, man You could cut the humidity with a Husqvarna (Country) Damn skippy, can't wash it off me Hard-working daddy, mama mighty bossy They don't like me runnin' with my buddy, Bubba We be gettin' saucy Like some good ole boys know to do 'round these parts Whiskey sips got us fit to be tied Pitching more than a hissy fit Wide open spaces, out in the sticks I'm in La Grange tryin' to holler at some dixie chicks Don't get mad at me Natalie, I'm just tipsy as piss [Chorus: Kyle Park] We goin' way down, way down, way down south We goin' way down, way down, way down Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down We goin' way down South [Verse 3: Demun Jones] Way down, like Jones County From can to can't, doin' it like it ain't Let me say it now, that we ain't playin' around, it's Bubba, Danny and me And we comin' to tear it down, and then we raisin' a banner And we ain't takin' it down, we crankin' the music louder We makin' it shake the ground, lay it down, lay it down Hey, what you know about them loud-ass crackers, that's yellin' the muddy south? While we hangin' outta windows and ridin' around the town In a black Duramax jacked way up off the ground Smoke stacks, big grips, hips and bottle lifts Drink bottles to the bottom 'cause we take big sips And little bitty hips, but here that's a fact Move your bottom, better get it together, now bring it back, y'all [Chorus: Kyle Parks] We goin' way down, way down, way down south We goin' way down, way down, way down Then we work, work 'til we can't work no more Then we drink, drink 'til we ain't got no more Then we lay it down, lay it down, lay it down We goin' way down South [Outro: Kyle Parks] We goin' way down South