My grandpappy was happy hillbilly A holler-raised, blue-collar, dollar-made man A t'bacc'r-stained smiler A shiner in the dark With a keep-it-real-heart and a commonsense plan I loved how he said what he said sometimes Whenever he found me down
With a laugh and that throwback Arkansas drawl That you get from my hick town He'd say
Rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it Yeah, like jaw chaw on a dang Dirt dauber sting By God doggone it Yeah, rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it
It's a bow on a fiddle It's whittling on hickory It's a homemade butter on cornbread thing Getting back down to earth Like a name on a shirt Don't forget where you're from If you know what I mean When that city ain't looking so green
Rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it Yeah, like jaw chaw on a dang Dirt dauber sting By God doggone it Yeah, rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it
Aw, yeah
On that clean truck On some "Life sucks" On that "Been there, done that. Now what?" On that "Done you wrong" On that shortcut home On the radio before you turn it on
Rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it Yeah, like jaw chaw on a dang Dirt dauber sting By God doggone it Yeah, rub a little country Rub a little country Rub a little country on it YeahTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.