Video de: Dirty Money Lyrics Brantley Gilbert » Country Fox.MusicaDe.Win

Brantley Gilbert - Dirty Money Lyrics

There's a bunch of folks from my town to your town to SoCal to all over Alabama
To New York chasing down that dirty money (dirty money)

They plow the ground and grow it up and fill the field with tractor dust from cotton to tobacco
Bustin' up their backs for dirty money (dirty money)

Hey!

Everybody gets it different it depends on where you from
Only way I know is get it like my daddy done
On a piece of land from his old man he handed down to me
John Deere turns the rows sunshine turns it green

That's the way we learned it
So that's the way we earn it
Pray for rain, from corn to grain
It keeps the whole world turning

Do it 'cause they need us
We're proud to be the last ones at the bank
And the first ones up to make dirty money

We mix the corn in a copper still got mouths to feed, got jars to fill
From the sheriff to the pastor got these pockets getting fatter with dirty money

Everybody gets it different it depends on where you from
Only way I know is get it like my daddy done
On a piece of land from his old man he handed down to me
John Deere turns the rows sunshine turns it green

That's the way we learned it
So that's the way we earn it
Pray for rain, from corn to grain
It keeps the whole world turning

Do it 'cause they need us
We're proud to be the last ones at the bank
And the first ones up to make dirty money

It's on our roots, our boots
Bleeding through it
And we live, we give
A whole new meaning to it (whole new meaning to it)

Everybody gets it different it depends on where you from
Only way I know is get it like my daddy done
On a piece of land from his old man he handed down to me
John Deere turns the rows sunshine turns it green

That's the way we learned it
So that's the way we earn it
Pray for rain, from corn to grain
It keeps the whole world turning

Do it 'cause they need us
We're proud to be the last ones at the bank
And the first ones up to make dirty money

Get your hands dirty, boy (that dirty money)
Ain't no pretty boys around here old son
Hell nah
Yeah!

(Dirty money)