Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Joe Diffie
Vocals
Post Malone
Vocals
Lonnie Wilson
Drums
Joey Moi
Background Vocals
Larry Paxton
Bass
Brent Mason
Electric Guitar
Jason Roller
Electric Guitar
Jim "Moose" Brown
Piano
Paul Franklin
Pedal Steel Guitar
Larry Franklin
Fiddle
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kerry Kurt Phillips
Songwriter
Howard Perdew
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe Diffie
Producer
Lonnie Wilson
Producer
Joey Moi
Producer
Louis Bell
Vocal Recording Engineer
Edoardo Ghigo
Assistant Recording Engineer
Ally Gecewicz
Studio Personnel
Scott Johnson
Studio Personnel
Scott Cooke
Editing Engineer
Josh Ditty
Editing Engineer
Eivind Nordland
Editing Engineer
Ryan Yount
Editing Engineer
Ted Jensen
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Well, I got my first truck, when I was three
Drove a hundred thousand miles on my knees
Hauling marbles and rocks, and thought it twice before
I hauled a Barbie Doll bed for the girl next door
She tried to pay me with a kiss and I began to understand
There's something women like about a Pickup Man
[Verse 2]
When I turned sixteen, I saved a few hundred bucks
My first car was a Pickup Truck
I was cruisin' the town and the first girl I see
Was Bobbie Jo Gentry, the homecoming queen
She flagged me down and climbed up in the cab, and said
"I never knew you were a Pickup Man!"
[Chorus]
You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
And I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I got an eight-foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks, you wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man
[Verse 3]
Most Friday nights, I can be found
In the bed of my truck on an old chaise lounge
Backed in in my spot at the drive-in show
You know the cargo lights give off a romantic glow
I never have to wait in line at the popcorn stand
'Cause there's something women like about a Pickup Man
[Chorus]
You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
And I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I got an eight-foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks, you wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man
[Verse 4]
A bucket of rust, or a brand-new machine
Once around the block and you'll know what I mean
[Chorus]
You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
And I stills wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I got an eight-foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks, you wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man
[Outro]
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man
Aw, drive that pickup now boy
That's about it
Ooh
Written by: Howard Perdew, Kerry Kurt Phillips