Colt Ford

Country Folk

Colt Ford

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Country Folk

	  		this is the whole song these five chords same pattern throughout  

D               Am       
Country fried, baptized in gravy 
F        G                      D 
Can't wash off what the good Lord made ya 
D               Am       
No matter how far that highway goes 
F        G                      D 
An old dirt road'll get you home (c'mon!) 
D               Am       
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie 
F        G                      D 
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind 
D               Am 
Then I'm right there wit'cha, put your drinks up high 
F        G                      D 
For my country folk (hey) my country folk (hey) 

D               Am 
I'm out here on a thousand acre plot of land 
F        G                      D 
And I can't hear 'em hatin on me, I'm a modest man 
D               Am 
Talkin with Jimmy Mathis and he got a plan 
F        G                      D 
And when he talk I listen to him, that's a lot of man (pops!) 
D               Am 
He said we need to take it back to the root of it 
F        G                      D 
I put on for the country, that's the truth of it 

I'm talkin last millenium we was reppin it 
Before anybody had accepted it (anybody!) 
We introduced 'em to the cooler on the tailgate 
Full of cold Nattie Light playin "Satellite" 
A lil' Dave while we misbehave, okay (okay) 
Once we figured the game out, we go play (go!) 
The generation of people that love 2Pac 
And hate, we bangin it in the boondocks 
Now put your drink in the air if you ain't scared 
Dem folks been doin that thang, yeah 


Colt Ford + (Bubba Sparxxx) 
See me and Bubba, we've been doin this a long while 
It sure seems a lot longer than a country mile 
Hollywood look good, full of fake frieds 
I never thought we could ever be here again (we back!) 
Time heals, one fell, one came up 
Back together son, we gon' tear this thing up 
A lot of talk cousin, I ain't gotta name 'em 
They wanna be us, hell I can't blame 'em (nah) 
So looky here, cold beer on the tailgate 
Been doin this for some years, y'all so late (so late!) 
Bangin OutKast and a little George Strait 
Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K 


Bubba Sparxxx + {Colt Ford} 
E'rything real funny 'til the money come (and then what?) 
Now they want some (what) when they ain't wanted none (ohh) 
And that's just how the thing go when you get 'er done (how?) 
We did it son {y-yeah we did it son~!} 
We was drinkin Jim Beam by the handle (handle) 
Me and Steven heard they're loadin up ammo (ammo) 
Bumpin Goodie Mob, real tree camo (camo) 
This white boy really think he Rambo! (GO!) 
Cut the beat on, I bet his ass jam though 
You don't like it straight to hell is where you can go 
12-pointer hangin right above the mantle 
You don't like the program? Change the channel (woo!) 


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See also:

chords Glen Campbell - Wichita Lineman chords Jim Croce - Time In A Bottle chords The Byrds - Mr. Tambourine Man chords Willie Nelson - You Are My Sunshine chords Chris Isaak - Wicked Game chords The Band - The Weight

Other versions:

chords Colt Ford - Country Folk
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