Chords for Mic Manik - Redneck Remix - Demun Jones, Big Chuk, D Thrash, Bottleneck, Boondock Kingz

_ _ _ [Fm] _ _ _ _ _
_ [G#] _ _ [C] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _ _
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_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [A] _
_ [E] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ when it's game time.
And on the third front page at the same time, stared down the barrel,
made others do the [A] same, and I drank brown liquor [G] just to ease my [E] pain.
I'm a redneck,
maybe El Garao's in some buckhoo.
All up on my toe, I'm just acting like a buckhoo.
Sittin' like I got a buck, two truck, two juiced up.
Get beside me, I ain't touch you.
No, I don't trust you.
Unless you from these poems where you don't survive,
unless you got a lot of heart.
Hillbilly hustler, live by the [A] code.
Got a [G] long reputation to [E] uphold.
Now it's easy to tell them boys country as hell.
My beard stay
on bush and I don't brush no hair.
I'm 75 south exit 185.
Take a left, cross the river buddy,
and come inside.
Jones County is the place, Demon Jones is your ho.
And I'm known to swipe
shows from bozos coast to coast.
Redneck, do not hillbilly and [A] rock.
Turning stages to barbecue
[E] and to beat the boondock stops.
I call hard, straw hat, pinecone pie.
Can fix it with a pocket knife,
spring layers don't lie.
Give me a roll of string, try leveling the board.
This old pick up
trick, I take these rookies to school.
Now that's four buckets of sand, one bucket of water.
Throw
it in the mixer on top of a bag of mortar.
Spin for five minutes in the wheelbarrow.
[A] Put it on
the mortar [G] board.
Now that's mud.
[E] _ Redneck, want some of this song.
Redneck, really want the top _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ _ [E] of the barrel.
I'm a _ _ _ legend in the woods, that's where I stay.
[A] I gotta keep my [Am] song hanging on my
gate.
[E] I got a 22 rival by my hog hands, and yeah I still spit without my dipkin.
Got some blood on
my boots from a kill last year, and a good bone knife from the horns of that deer.
I'm a backwoods
baller, pin on the waller.
You can find me in the pines getting turnt in the holler.
I'm a redneck
son, it's my way of life.
I'm living good in the [G] country, and yeah I live [E] right.
Redneck,
now what you thought?
No hip hop, raise me I'm a 518 all broke.
Stall hoes for you, flap your trap,
do some research.
Boondock king, shamrocks on the t-shirt.
Peeper shine, got your boy walking
sideways, chilling with the beer.
Clean it, clear up in the driveway.
I stay placed up, hip hop,
[A] redneck.
Country strong, [G] stay strong, Danny O [E] coming next.
G8, my home state, where them y'alls play.
Yes, red clay, no cliche, no play.
I second what Troy say.
City [B] folks like really what they [E] each say.
Fact is, they done let me in.
A wild redneck getting drunk with my kin.
That can write a
little bit with a pen to pen.
[A] So turn the feed up, [E] cousin, let the party begin. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [G] _ _ [E] Swipping on a blue flank, burning beverage.
Got me tripping looking at the sky,
heavens.
Rednecks living in the woods, it's a blessing.
But some of these rapping rednecks
need lessons.
It ain't for everybody, you gotta love it.
Love it so much you can't keep from
thinking of it.
Love it like the girl in your life.
And [A] love it like a jacked up [G] truck when it's running
just [E] right.
Love it like the brand new tires that just rolled up in a big brown truck.
You gotta
love it like we love mud.
And some love to smoke bud and drink bud.
I do.
It's a lifestyle to be
living.
Made for the country and the city is a prison.
Respect is earned around here, it ain't
given.
[A] Living off the grid is my [E] lifelong mission.
Kid cops, spit fans, hooked to the stink bay.
Tight lines, catfishing in my think tank.
Mustard on my taters and bust them off like sling blade.
They mostly washed up and they sucking like a sink drain.
Whether we're flat bottom or we're
on tune boat.
I'm gonna give what I'm growing, y'all sink what I float.
Homie it's no baloney,
believe me it's no joke.
Don't matter the cold [G] weather, we're starting with no [E] choke.
Hit a buck a hundred bucks, open sights and no scope.
Thinking they can hold me, but trust me
there's no hope.
The phonies is no joke.
Your rollers are slowpoke, my flow is just so [Em] dope.
And dirty is no soap.
I'm the lone star [E] go home.
Tip up or go home.
I stay aimed at the stars
cause the bars are so dope.
Good bars monster.
Corker to no [A] doze.
We slamming like closed [G] doors.
Don't ask me cause Bo [N] knows. _ _ _ _
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_ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _ _ _
_ [C] _ _ _ _ _ _ _