[Sung]
Dirt road
Cold beer
Blue jeans
Red pickup
Rural noun, simple adjective
And then when you're not singing you're just kinda talking in the middle like this
No shoes
No shirt
No Jews
You didn't hear that
You also didn't not hear it
I walk and talk like a field hand
But the boots I'm wearing cost five grand
I write songs about riding tractors
From the comfort of a private jet
I can sing in mandarin
And still know I'm pandering
Hunting deer and chasing trout
Cold Bud Light with the logo facing out
Hear that subtle mandolin
That's textbook pandering
I own a private ranch that I rarely use
[Spoken]
One verse, one chorus in the bag
Now it's time to talk to the ladies
I'm hoping my Southern charm offsets all these rape-y vibes I'm puttin' out
[Sung]
Good girl
In a straw hat
With her arms out in a corn field
That's a scarecrow, whoops sorry. Thought that was a human woman
Cold night
Cold beer
Cold jeans
Strike that last one
I want you
I hope you're feeling me
Once again just talking in the middle of it, just talking like this
We go to bed and you doze off
So I take your country girl clothes off
I put my hands on your body
It feels like hay, it's a fucking scarecrow again
White mics (?)
Fuck your ears I'm pandering
I write songs for the people who do
Jobs in the towns that I'd never move to
Legalize gerrymandering
Tolerate my pandering
You got a beautiful mouth
I got a beautiful dick
You dumb motherfuckers want a key change?
Thematically meandering
Emphatically pandering
I got a tight grip on my demo's balls
Say the word "truck" and they jizz in their overalls
You don't know what land you're in
I'm in the land of pandering
And I'll be upfront
I do what I do cause I'm a total cunt-ry boy
