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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Muscadine Bloodline
Muscadine Bloodline
Performer
Charlie Muncaster
Charlie Muncaster
Lead Vocals
Gary Stanton
Gary Stanton
Lead Vocals
Weston Stewart
Weston Stewart
Electric Guitar
Zoltan Tobac
Zoltan Tobac
Drums
Justin Rowton
Justin Rowton
Bass Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gary Stanton
Gary Stanton
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Charlie Muncaster
Charlie Muncaster
Producer
Gary Stanton
Gary Stanton
Producer
Ryan Youmans
Ryan Youmans
Producer

Lyrics

You know ol' Earle Byrd down 'round Mexia Frisco's the closest town Take a ride off the black top onto the chirt rock Take you right by his house He got a Cur dog chained to a dogwood And a mule that's meaner than shit He's got him a champion fightin' rooster That chicken's the pride of the Uriah pits Served his country in Korea, served his time up in a cell For cookin' up good homemade corn liquor The kind that make a man go blind Kind that make a poor man richer When the folks vote the county dry Kind that'll get you there quicker Put some slack back in your jaw I'm talkin' that good homemade corn liquor Earle Byrd's been brewin' since the crack of dawn Well now ol' Earle Byrd is an outlaw Sutton of the south Was the last of a breed, didn't brag Didn't need you to run off and run your mouth Well now one time the grape vine wind and wind Through the hollers up in Perdue Hill Well then follow the smoke stack way off the two track And that's where they found the still Did a ten-year stint in Atmore prison farming in the fields For cookin' up good homemade corn liquor The kind that make a man go blind Kind that make a poor man richer When the folks vote the county dry Kind that'll get you there quicker Put some slack back in your jaw I'm talkin' that good homemade corn liquor Earle Byrd been brewin' since the crack of dawn Well now Earle Byrd is 90-something sittin' on the porch Sippin' Nehi gnawin' on a sugar cane shoe Ride out to the house And he'll tell ya all about all the rotgut rye that he used to brew He's a mountain of a man from Monroe And Lord knows he don't deny nothing of the premonition Tired of good ol' boys from south Alabama Make a livin' durin' prohibition Cookin' up good homemade corn liquor The kind that make a man go blind Kind that make a poor man richer When the folks vote the county dry The kind that'll get you there quicker Put some slack back in your jaw I'm talkin' that good homemade corn liquor Earle Byrd been brewin' since the crack of dawn 'Til the crack of dawn Yeah, 'til the crack of dawn
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