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Brantley Gilbert - Son Of The Dirty South Ft Jelly Roll Lyrics

"Son Of The Dirty South" lyrics Brantley Gilbert Lyrics "Son Of The Dirty South"
(feat. Jelly Roll)

Tatted-up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off and I'm buck wild
Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south

This that southern, playerlistic, Willie-smoking, whiskey sipping
Southern like my momma's kitchen, gravy biscuits, fried chicken
Backroads, I'm still tipping, wood wheel, I'm still gripping
Stand strong, no ass kissing, old school ass whipping
Come from the bottom, nothing is a problem, say get 'em, I got 'em, I promise
My roots are blue-collar, them boys from the holler
Do anything that they can just for a dollar
Pit bulls in the yard, broken down cars, I'm like fuck it, I'm high
I pull up trailer park pimping with a double-wide dime

'Cause I'm a son of the dirty south, got to tripping
Mama washing out my dirty mouth and picking switches
I'm a hell-raising rebel that you better never tread on
Gun-toting, drinking, smoking hoss that you can bet on
Tatted-up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off and I'm buck-wild
Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south

(Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south)

I'm from a place where they mix rock, country, and hip-hop
Somewhere between Hank, Three 6, and Kid Rock
Johnny Cash, all black, this that old-school flavor
Sipping something, ripping more lines than notebook paper
Outlaw spirit, my middle finger stuck up again, bad boy
We all know good women love troubled men
Got that music cranked loud, we won't turn shit down
Peaceful people but believe it, we gon' burn shit down

Oh, I'm a son of the dirty south, got to tripping
Mama washing out my dirty mouth and picking switches
I'm a hell-raising rebel that you better never tread on
Gun-toting, drinking, smoking hoss that you can bet on
Tatted-up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off and I'm buck-wild
Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south

You know some folks won't change
We stand for the flag and kneel to pray
It's the land of the free because of the brave
From the cradle to the grave
We were made in the USA

Yeah, I'm a son of the dirty south, got to tripping
Mama washing out my dirty mouth and picking switches
I'm a hell-raising rebel that you better never tread on
Gun-toting, drinking, smoking hoss that you can bet on
Tatted-up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off and I'm buck-wild
Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south

Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south
Loud and rowdy, I'm a son of the dirty south