Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bryan Martin
Vocals
Austin Tolliver
Vocals
Charlie Farley
Vocals
OG Caden
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bryan Martin
Songwriter
Charlie Farley
Songwriter
OG Caden
Songwriter
Jared Sciullo
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jared Sciullo
Producer
Lyrics
I love my country, love my freedom
Fuck a welfare, no, I don't need 'em
Shotgun raised from the woods to the plate
Ain't never went hungry, ain't ever too late
To come around here son running your mouth
You can fuck around and find out
You can fuck around and find out
You may make it through the snakes, snares, and alligators
But once you get to the gate you can't depend on your waders
Cuz you'll be over your tater, I'm talking growing tomatoers
Feeding the worms that I'll fish with later
I'll have a fish stick plate over a six-foot grave
Before I take a knee as our anthem plays
My hands on my heart, I stand on what I say
And my second amendment handles what I can't
I ain't trying to be Billy badass or talk shit
I'm just saying there's the line
Don't cross it
I got a Red Ryder gun when I was three
So I don't run or hide from anything
Bitch, I'm a red, white, and blue-collar boy from the South
Hey, you can fuck around and find out
Love my country, love my freedom
Fuck a welfare, no, I don't need 'em
Shotgun raised from the woods to the plate
Ain't never went hungry, ain't ever too late
To come around here son running your mouth
You can fuck around and find out
You can fuck around and find out
If they looking for me, well, they know where to find me
I'll be half drunk, strapped up in a white tee
I can show you if it's needed
When you see it you'll believe it
If you don't love it you can leave it
Michael Jackson, you can beat it
FAFO I teach you how this game go
Different joint, same smoke
Wake up wear the same clothes
Real redneck, I'm a piece of white trash
Blue collar boy but my lady's high class
Got my music way up loud with a cigar in my mouth
Fuck around and come find out
How we do it in the south
Ain't saying nothing but you're running that mouth
I never take a handout, I'm too damn proud
I'm a son of the dirty South
Where the trucks sit high and these straight pipes loud
This land, a land of freedom
Double barrels in case we need 'em
Man up or sit your ass down
We done talking, fuck around and find out
Love my country, love my freedom
Fuck a welfare, no, I don't need 'em
Shotgun raised from the woods to the plate
Ain't never went hungry, ain't ever too late
To come around here son running your mouth
You can fuck around and find out
You can fuck around and find out
Written by: Austin Tolliver, Bryan Martin, Caden Brewer, Charlie Farley, Jared Sciullo, OG Caden
![Listen to Bottoms Up (feat. T.I.) [Remix] by Brantley Gilbert](/mkimage/image/thumb/Music211/v4/74/62/63/746263c3-7e20-ed25-e9bc-bd2fbdfdf44f/25BMR0006550.rgb.jpg/375x375cc.webp "Listen to Bottoms Up (feat. T.I.) [Remix] by Brantley Gilbert")
