We wear cowboy boots and wrangled jeans. Caught the fish, bout everything. Trucks are loud, beers are cold. Like to raise hell off and on the road. West Virginia to Caroline, down the bergys south Georgia's line, there's a few down there just like me. No matter where you go you'll always see
Good old boys with a wild side, rowdy friends makin good times. Haulin on, no self relax. Come on y'all we're the young and wreckless
Young, young and reckless. (x2)
After work on Friday night, see what trouble we might find. Call up the boys, we at this bout, catch a little buzz at the spot down town. And later that night we head to the farm, get a little crazy in a beer red barn. Screamin Hank with the rebel will. The girls get hot, spillin their own spill on us
Good old boys with a wild side, rowdy friends makin good times. Haulin on, no self relax. Come on y'all we're the young and wreckless
Young, young and reckless. (x2)
I love my momma. I say, "Yes, mam." Prime example of a southern gentleman. I know how to act but I'm still a mess. You already know I'm young and reckless
Good old boys with a wild side, rowdy friends makin good times. Haulin on, no self relax. Come on y'all we're the young and wreckless
Young, young and reckless. (x4)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
