Chords for Brantley Gilbert - Son Of The Dirty South (Live) ft. Jelly Roll
Tempo:
138.65 bpm
Chords used:
C#
E
F#
C#m
D#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[C#]
I'm a son of a dirty [C#m] son.
It's that Southern playa-listic Willie smokin', whiskey sippin'.
Southern [G#] like my momma's kitchen, gravy [A#] biscuits, [C#m] fried chicken, packed rolls.
I'm still tippin', Woodwell, I'm still grippin'.
Stayin' strong, no ass kissin', old school ass whippin'.
Come from the bottom, nothing is a problem.
Say get a mic outta my promise, my roots are blue [C#] collars.
And boys from the Holla do anything that they can [A#m] just for a [C#m] dollar.
Hit bulls in the yard, broken down cars, I'm like, fuck it, I'm hot.
I pull up, [C#] trailer parked, pimpin' with the double white Dodgers.
I'm a son of a dirty son.
[E] Got the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better never drown.
[C#] Guns open, drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [C#] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a [C#m] dirty son.
[E] [C#]
[C#m] I'm from a place where they mix rock, country and hip-hop.
Somewhere [C#]
between, hey, three six [A#] and kid [C#m] rock.
Johnny Cash all black, that's that old school flavor.
[C#] Sippin' somethin', rippin' more lines than notebook paper.
[C#m] Outlaw spirit, my middle finger stuck up again.
Bad [C#] boy, we all know good women love [F#] troubled [C#m] men.
Got them music crank loud, we won't turn shit down.
Peaceful [C#] people, but believe it, we gon' turn shit down.
Oh, I'm a son [D#] of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better [E] never drown.
[C#] Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [B] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a dirty son.
[C#]
Oh, [C#m]
I'm [E]
[F#] [C#]
a son of a dirty son.
Know some folks won't change, stand for the black.
Need you to [F#] pray, it's a land of the free.
The cause [A#m] of the brave, [E] from the cradle to [C#] the grave.
[E] We were made in the [F#] USA.
[C#] I'm a son of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches on [C#] the hill, raisin' revelations, [F#] you better never [E] [C#] drown.
Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm [C#] throwed off and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a [E] son of a dirty son.
[C#]
[C#m]
[C#]
[C#m] So I'm ready, I'm a son of a dirty son.
[N]
I'm a son of a dirty [C#m] son.
It's that Southern playa-listic Willie smokin', whiskey sippin'.
Southern [G#] like my momma's kitchen, gravy [A#] biscuits, [C#m] fried chicken, packed rolls.
I'm still tippin', Woodwell, I'm still grippin'.
Stayin' strong, no ass kissin', old school ass whippin'.
Come from the bottom, nothing is a problem.
Say get a mic outta my promise, my roots are blue [C#] collars.
And boys from the Holla do anything that they can [A#m] just for a [C#m] dollar.
Hit bulls in the yard, broken down cars, I'm like, fuck it, I'm hot.
I pull up, [C#] trailer parked, pimpin' with the double white Dodgers.
I'm a son of a dirty son.
[E] Got the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better never drown.
[C#] Guns open, drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [C#] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a [C#m] dirty son.
[E] [C#]
[C#m] I'm from a place where they mix rock, country and hip-hop.
Somewhere [C#]
between, hey, three six [A#] and kid [C#m] rock.
Johnny Cash all black, that's that old school flavor.
[C#] Sippin' somethin', rippin' more lines than notebook paper.
[C#m] Outlaw spirit, my middle finger stuck up again.
Bad [C#] boy, we all know good women love [F#] troubled [C#m] men.
Got them music crank loud, we won't turn shit down.
Peaceful [C#] people, but believe it, we gon' turn shit down.
Oh, I'm a son [D#] of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better [E] never drown.
[C#] Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [B] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a dirty son.
[C#]
Oh, [C#m]
I'm [E]
[F#] [C#]
a son of a dirty son.
Know some folks won't change, stand for the black.
Need you to [F#] pray, it's a land of the free.
The cause [A#m] of the brave, [E] from the cradle to [C#] the grave.
[E] We were made in the [F#] USA.
[C#] I'm a son of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches on [C#] the hill, raisin' revelations, [F#] you better never [E] [C#] drown.
Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm [C#] throwed off and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a [E] son of a dirty son.
[C#]
[C#m]
[C#]
[C#m] So I'm ready, I'm a son of a dirty son.
[N]
Key:
C#
E
F#
C#m
D#
C#
E
F#
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'm a son of a dirty [C#m] son.
It's that Southern playa-listic Willie smokin', whiskey sippin'.
Southern [G#] like my momma's kitchen, gravy [A#] biscuits, [C#m] fried chicken, packed rolls.
I'm still tippin', Woodwell, I'm still grippin'.
Stayin' strong, no ass kissin', old school ass whippin'.
Come from the bottom, nothing is a problem.
Say get a mic outta my promise, my roots are blue [C#] collars.
And boys from the Holla do anything that they can [A#m] just for a [C#m] dollar.
Hit bulls in the yard, broken down cars, I'm like, fuck it, I'm hot.
I pull up, [C#] trailer parked, pimpin' with the double white Dodgers.
I'm a son of a dirty son.
[E] Got the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better never drown.
_ [C#] Guns open, drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [C#] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a [C#m] dirty son. _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ [C#] _
_ [C#m] _ _ _ I'm from a place where they mix rock, country and hip-hop.
Somewhere [C#]
between, hey, three six [A#] and kid [C#m] rock.
Johnny Cash all black, that's that old school flavor.
[C#] Sippin' somethin', rippin' more lines than notebook paper.
[C#m] _ Outlaw spirit, my middle finger stuck up again.
Bad [C#] boy, we all know good women love [F#] troubled [C#m] men.
Got them music crank loud, we won't turn shit down.
Peaceful [C#] people, but believe it, we gon' turn shit down.
Oh, I'm a son [D#] of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better [E] never drown.
[C#] Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [B] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a dirty son.
[C#]
Oh, [C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'm _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
[F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ [C#] _
a son of a dirty son.
Know some folks won't change, stand for the black.
Need you to [F#] pray, it's a land of the free.
The cause [A#m] of the brave, [E] from the cradle to [C#] the grave.
_ [E] We were made in the [F#] USA.
[C#] _ I'm a son of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches on [C#] the hill, raisin' revelations, [F#] you better never [E] [C#] drown.
Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm [C#] throwed off and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a [E] son of a dirty son.
[C#] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _ So I'm ready, I'm a son of a dirty son. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
[C#] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'm a son of a dirty [C#m] son.
It's that Southern playa-listic Willie smokin', whiskey sippin'.
Southern [G#] like my momma's kitchen, gravy [A#] biscuits, [C#m] fried chicken, packed rolls.
I'm still tippin', Woodwell, I'm still grippin'.
Stayin' strong, no ass kissin', old school ass whippin'.
Come from the bottom, nothing is a problem.
Say get a mic outta my promise, my roots are blue [C#] collars.
And boys from the Holla do anything that they can [A#m] just for a [C#m] dollar.
Hit bulls in the yard, broken down cars, I'm like, fuck it, I'm hot.
I pull up, [C#] trailer parked, pimpin' with the double white Dodgers.
I'm a son of a dirty son.
[E] Got the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better never drown.
_ [C#] Guns open, drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [C#] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a [C#m] dirty son. _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ [C#] _
_ [C#m] _ _ _ I'm from a place where they mix rock, country and hip-hop.
Somewhere [C#]
between, hey, three six [A#] and kid [C#m] rock.
Johnny Cash all black, that's that old school flavor.
[C#] Sippin' somethin', rippin' more lines than notebook paper.
[C#m] _ Outlaw spirit, my middle finger stuck up again.
Bad [C#] boy, we all know good women love [F#] troubled [C#m] men.
Got them music crank loud, we won't turn shit down.
Peaceful [C#] people, but believe it, we gon' turn shit down.
Oh, I'm a son [D#] of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches [C#] on the hill, raisin' [F#] revelations, you better [E] never drown.
[C#] Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm throwed off [B] and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a son [E] of a dirty son.
[C#]
Oh, [C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'm _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
[F#] _ _ _ _ _ _ [C#] _
a son of a dirty son.
Know some folks won't change, stand for the black.
Need you to [F#] pray, it's a land of the free.
The cause [A#m] of the brave, [E] from the cradle to [C#] the grave.
_ [E] We were made in the [F#] USA.
[C#] _ I'm a son of a dirty son.
Got [E] the trippin', [C#] momma washin', I'm a dirty man.
[E] Pickin' switches on [C#] the hill, raisin' revelations, [F#] you better never [E] [C#] drown.
Guns open, [D#] drinkin', smokin', all the [E] trippin' on.
[F#] Headed up, I'm gassed up, I'm [C#] throwed off and I'm buff [F#] wild.
So I'm ready, I'm a [E] son of a dirty son.
[C#] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _ So I'm ready, I'm a son of a dirty son. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _