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Sippin'

Sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up a another cupa

sippin' on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

12 gauge double barrel

loaded full of buckshot

brewin up that mountain dew

it boilin like a crockpot

deep out in theese southern woods and

far away from evrything

out amongst the tombstones

cookin up that hurracain

take a sip for testin then'

pour a littlie on the ground

soak up in that goregia clay

and now i'm waitin for the sound

150 year burried deep in the earths grip

soon there gonna dancin

when that cool water hits there lips

made from the mill

out a feild cursed by whodo

water from a well

striaght outta hell

cursed by vodoo

stir it up cook it to the point that it evaporates

173 degrees boilin up

the dead awake

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

100 gallons of that rot gut top stock

ready for the shippin

in a heavy chevy small block

foot to the floor

ridin mean like an out law

duckin dodgin road blocks

like boxing with an south paw

these dark and dusty roads

lite up by the full moon

comin round the corner

muffler soundin like a monsoon

i got the devils meanest demons

ridin shotgun

straped with a winchester

case they have to pop one

we headin for the next county

on the southin trail

g man and revenue hot on me southern tail

hang out the window

one blast with the buckshot

needs get em off my ass so that i don't get got

white lighter, sugar wiskey, stump pole, skull cracker, alley bourbon, city gin, wildcat, block and tackle

its how we do it

how we get it to the next level

have us huntin bitches down

with pick axe and shovel

gone of that good shit

hit ya like a mule kick

pick a hater out the crowd

and hit em with a pool stick

hallucinations seein shit

got ya climbin trees

passed out in a ditch

like a bitch down on ya knees

don't even give a fuck

when the spirts hit ya brain

four shots is all ya need

certified gone insane

lets get it crackalackin

one more 'gain for the pimpin

take the jug

and turn it up chug it down

and fuck the sippin

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

sippin on down

sippin around

tippin up another cupa

sippin on down

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