We’ve got a Muslim for a president who hates cowboys, hates cowgirls, hates fishing, hates farming, loves gays and we hate him!
Some high society lady said is your horse outside? No ma’am, he’s between my legs, but your too fat to ride.
Good friends, good whiskey, and good lovin’, I want to thank you Lord.
Somewhere between raising hell and amazing grace, Lord I know just how they feel.
If you mind your own business, you’ll stay busy all the time.
I’d love to spit some Beechnut in that dude’s eye and shoot him with my ole forty-five.
I get whiskey bent and hell bound.
We say grace and we say ma’am. If you ain’t in to that, we don’t give a damn.
My daddy, he was somewhere between God and John Wayne.
You can do anything that you wanna do, but uh-uh, don’t step on my cowboy boots.
Let me sum it up for ya: We got some people who work for a living, and we got some people who vote for a living.
The greatest of men, they don’t get too big to cry. They just loose faith in love and life.
You’re singing a song about making love to your drummer, well gay guitar pickers don’t turn me on.
Why don’t we all just get a long-neck?
If they don’t have the Grand Ole Opry, like they do in Tennessee, just send me to hell or New York City, it would be about the same to me.
Some were beggars, some were kings, and some were masters of the arts. But in their shame they’re all the same, these men with broken hearts.
I’m for turning off the tube and turning down the light, cause I’m for nothing else but me and you tonight.
I went and got a tire tool out of my truck, and straightened him out as cold as a block of ice. It was an attitude adjustment, and it’ll work every time.