Styling gel won’t touch that ol’ boy
He ain’t no metrosexual
He feeds his beagles Walmart’s Ol’ Roy
And ain’t that sweet

He don’t keer
For stereotypes of coon skin caps—
Crocket & Boone & just git going
He says he’ll spank your fanny fat
And ain’t that sweet

He’s kept his cabin back woods
He’ll tell you watch for chiggers
Summers up there ‘long them trails
Sometimes he just sits and figgers
And ain’t that sweet

He says he kin hep ya be a mother
His handsome ol’ head
Rolls out one scripture adder ‘nother
And ain’t that sweet

Pork fat-n-collard greens
Hot dogs slopped with sour kraut
Tatters, maters, & beans
Keeps him stout—
Mississippi Mud
And ain’t that sweet

He says he’s got a red-neck friend
And a mountain man
He says he’ll murry ya—
Come Sunday he’s awl amen
And ain’t that sweet

Cracker Barrel hopping hillbilly
Bible-thumping bumpkin
Scraggly-bearded bohunk
Flag-waving hick
Pimply-necked podunk
Ignorant honky tonk—
He don’t take that
And ain’t that sweet

He fishes in the creek
He loads the bird dogs
In the red Dodge—
Rifle stashed in the front seat—
Gone hunting
And ain’t that sweet!