Lyrics

[Chorus: CB3] It's a new style that we like to play And it's made right here in the southern states And I know some don't approve 'Cause they don't understand what it is we're doin' I got belt buckles 'round my waist Brass knuckles for your face Lil' country music with a guitar sound Make them redneck boys line up and throw down [Verse 1: Brahma Bull] Rebel Flag belt buckle 'bout as big as a house (Come on) Got some new brass knuckles that'll tighten your mouth (Look out) Old jeans with a snuff ring right in the ass (Woo) And gotta box of old shells sittin' right on my dash Ol' lady ridin' shotgun, she right on my hip (Come on) Yea she's country to the bone, she don't take no lip (Nope) Keep them eyes in your head and don't open that mouth Then you won't have to see what all the damn fuss is about (Come on) Worm dirt in the lip, spit bottle in my hand Slow slidin' through the crowd I'm a dangerous man Shakin' hands with some folks I ain't seen in a while (Hah) See some haters in the house and I flash 'em a smile I hear a whisper in the crowd "Why they here tonight?" Never really known to start 'em, but can finish the fight (Yup) Rebel flag belt buckle, and gotta pocket full of brass Two bottles of Bud Light and a can full of whoop ass [Chorus: CB3] It's a new style that we like to play And it's made right here in the southern states And I know some don't approve 'Cause they don't understand what it is we're doin' I got belt buckles 'round my waist Brass knuckles for your face Lil' country music with a guitar sound Make them redneck boys line up and throw down [Verse 2: Brahma Bull] Made our way to the back, took a seat on the stool (Right here) CB3 grabbed a cue and started hustlin' pool (Go ahead) I ordered two drinks kicked my feet in the air (What the hell?) And this drunk old man popped up from nowhere He said "Y'all boys are new here, lemme tell ya the rules" (Come on) I hopped up quick so I could talk to this dude (What's up) I made my point real fast, looked him straight in the eye I said I follow rules about as good as moccasins fly (Hah) I ain't got no wings (Nope) and you ain't got no gun (Nuh uh) So if you gotta to ask me when the parties begun See my name is Jeff McCool, but you can call me the Bull (Woo) And if you cross me once again yeah I'm actin' a fool (Ha ha) You see them rednecks there, the ones starin' at you They got big belt buckles and some brass knucks too (Uh Oh) "Who you think you are boy, you ain't David Allen Coe" No it's Moccasin Creek bitch, we're stealin' the show [Chorus: CB3] It's a new style that we like to play And it's made right here in the southern states And I know some don't approve 'Cause they don't understand what it is we're doin' I got belt buckles 'round my waist Brass knuckles for your face Lil' country music with a guitar sound Make them redneck boys line up and throw down, y'all [Outro: Brahma Bull] Now we ain't promotin' violence I'm just sayin' you put a whole bunch of rednecks in a bar And get 'em drinkin' you don't know what's gonna happen I'm just kiddin', we know exactly what's gonna happen Break it down