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Country On It
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Justin Moore
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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 common sense 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 Likе a name on a shirt Don't forget wherе 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 Yeah
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