Hey, Mister City Man
Rollie on your wrist, Nasdaq in your hand
Rollin' your eyes at my beat-up truck
Feed in the back, spittin' in my cup
Both our tags say Tennessee
I don't know you, I know you don't know me
But if this red light didn't have to change
I'd have time to say
When you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Oh
I didn't choose my raisin' and you didn't choose yours
You work in four walls and I'm workin' four-by-fours
We ain't as different as you think we is, but I didn't pull up sayin'
"Won't you look at that born rich, fed with a silver spoon, trust fund kid," like you did
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Why we say grace, why we hold hands
Keep a shotgun right by the nightstand
And why we love a good rain comin' down
And never leave these so-called backward, backwood, good-for-nothing, hillbilly hick towns
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two, yes, you do
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Oh
Yeah, then you'll understand
Hey, Mister City Man
Rollie on your wrist, Nasdaq in your hand
Rollin' your eyes at my beat-up truck
Feed in the back, spittin' in my cup
Both our tags say Tennessee
I don't know you, I know you don't know me
But if this red light didn't have to change
I'd have time to say
When you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Oh
I didn't choose my raisin' and you didn't choose yours
You work in four walls and I'm workin' four-by-fours
We ain't as different as you think we is, but I didn't pull up sayin'
"Won't you look at that born rich, fed with a silver spoon, trust fund kid," like you did
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Why we say grace, why we hold hands
Keep a shotgun right by the nightstand
And why we love a good rain comin' down
And never leave these so-called backward, backwood, good-for-nothing, hillbilly hick towns
So when you die, I hope you come back as a redneck
I hope it sticks on you like a hell-hot sun tattoo
I hope you break your back for that barely-get-by paycheck
And when you can't, you gotta go and bloody up a buck or two, yes, you do
Catch the Holy Ghost on a pinewood bench
Drive across the county just to hook up a winch
Revel in the pride of a simple man
Maybe then you'll understand
Oh
Yeah, then you'll understand