What You Think

Rebel Son

In this day and age, Lifestyles ain't all the same.
Everybody's lookin for somebody else to blame.
But nothing irritates me worse than you hear you rich folks whine.
You're addicted to wealth and to yourself,
You're addicted to the dollar sign.
You put me down cause I was raised
Just a little bit different from you,
Well I work with my hands and respect my lands,
I'm trustee tried and true.

You get up to go to work, put on your pretty suit and tie,
Well I put on a beat up shirt, work boots, and faded old levi's.
I grind my fucking knuckles to the bone to make ends meet.
So I'm glad that you get mad, when I drive fast down your street.
You get pissed off cause we like being mad all over town.
Well you can go to hell cause my Rebel Yell volume don't go down.

We're just backwoods boys, making noise in a new age society.
And we don't give a shit about the stock market or life of luxury.
A simple man is what I am, status ain't for me,
I may not have a yacht, but I'm happy as can be.
I can drink a beer and shoot a deer faster than you can blink.
But you think I'm trash and you're high class and that your
Shit don't stink.
Well I'm a honky tonkin, rib rompin, shit stompin redneck and
I don't give a fuck what you think.

You snobby mr. monebags have people you call friends,
But when it came down to it, you'd probly be to greedy to help them.
Well I've got more buddies for whom I'd put my life on the line,
Cause I know they'd do the same for me if I was ever in a bind.
Well your heart is made from parts that come from a septic tank,
When you kids don't earn you'll start to burn, you can take that to the bank.

You read the Wall Street Journal, sippin champagne in your limosine,
Well I'll be alright with a cold Bud Light and a hot rod magazine.
You all love your BMW's and Porches that you drive,
Well my gas guzzling '67 Bowtie suits me fine.
So keep in mind you pretty kids that think you're all so cool,
Just remember we're the ones that beat the shit out of you in school.

You like to play crochet, talk politics and vanity.
Well the grand ol' opry on saturday night on the radio's fine with me.
I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth,
But I'm proud to be a no bullshit boy from down south.
I'm 100% workin man that's what I'll always be,
So you upper class can kiss my ass cause you ain't worth a shit to me.

No we don't give a fuck about your big bucks or what you think.
No weeeee don't give a flyin fuck what you think.
FUCK YOU!

Share on social media Share as link