Son of A

I'm one son of a bench seats so she can slide over

Lift kit make heaven feel closer

That strap slippin' off of her shoulder

Some things don't get old for a son of a—

Which parking lot are we meeting up at?

Cold case with a backup six-pack

Rockstar queued up three times on a soundtrack

Yeah, I lace my boots up, I climb up into my truck

If you're tryna buy what I'm selling, then

You gotta shotgun one for the hell of it

Raise a glass and say cheers to my next thirty years

And, no, my mama ain't gonna wanna hear this

I'm a red, white, blue collar, beer-loving son of a bitch

(Yeah, tell 'em what it is, man)

I'm one son of a hitch with a boat in the back

Ain't caught nothing, but we're throwing it back

Steel town, red star, yellow or black

Ain't nothing gonna change that

Yeah, I lace my boots up, I climb up into my truck

If you're tryna buy what I'm selling, then

You gotta shotgun one for the hell of it

Raise a glass and say cheers to my next thirty years

And, no, my mama ain't gonna wanna hear this

I'm a red, white, blue collar, beer-loving son of a bitch

I'm a son of a bitch

I'm a son of a—

Middle finger, man, I got enough to go around (Hell nah)

Raising hell, my daddy always said I'm a son of a bitch

Never seen a Yankee boy on this side of town

Burned this place down 'til they put me in the ground

Yeah, I lace my boots up, I climb up into my truck

If you're tryna buy what I'm selling, then

You gotta shotgun one for the hell of it

Raise a glass and say cheers to my next thirty years

And, no, my mama ain't gonna wanna hear this

I'm a red, white, blue collar, beer-loving son of a bitch

(Blue collar, beer-loving son of a—)

Son of a—