Kip Moore Smile

Clocking in at 9

Just got my apron on

You've been here since 5

Looking for someone to make eyes with

Tryna buy me a drink, but I

I know who you are

My brother's neighbour's cousin

Has told me all about

Stories of all the things you've done

Girl who had your son

And how your number one

Is that thing you call a truck

One bale wide

Worn tread on the tires

Looks alright from afar

Get too close and she just looks tired

Blowing smoke, ripped up seats

Low on gasoline, nowhere to put my drink

Tryna get with me you're outta luck

Don't wanna hop up in that thing

That you call a truck

Tryna to take a break

Whiskey glasses playing

Lit my cigarette

Walking in with that Kip Moore smile

And the boy charm but I

I been there before

And I learned my lesson

On how they spin their lies

With those darling eyes

But I don't have time for a one night buck

In that thing you call

That you call a truck

One bale wide

Worn tread on the tires

Looks alright from afar

Get too close and she just looks tired

Blowing smoke, ripped up seats

Low on gasoline, nowhere to put my drink

Tryna get with me you're outta luck

Don't wanna hop up in that thing

One bale wide

Worn tread on the tires

Looks alright from afar

Get too close and she just looks tired

Blowing smoke, ripped up seats

Low on gasoline, nowhere to put my drink

Tryna get with me you're outta luck

Don't wanna hop up in that thing

That thing you call a truck