If That's Country Lyrics - Big Thinkin' - Dallas Wayne

Well, you've called my kinfolk trash all their lives 

And I'm a chip off the heap, ask any one of my ex-wives 

I'm a social drinker, and I stay social all I can 

I'm a deer-snuffin', chain-smokin', simple kinda southern man 

First you gut our farms, strip-mall all the five-and-dimes 

Then you tax our so-called sins, call our pleasures a crime 

Now you're turnin' our music into some strange elevator noise 

Think it's time for us to win one back for the good ol' boys 

You can paint stripes on a billy goat/call it a tiger if it floats your boat 

You can make a star of a teenage girl 

But one million dollars won't make her Merle 

Laser beams, navel rings, and a pretty face might be something 

But you can kiss my Ozark ass, if that's country 

There's a certain song that's got my local station stuck 

It's got a steel guitar, and I believe it mentions a truck 

But the singer don't sound like he ever worked a stick shift 

Sounds more like bad Phil Collins with a hick facelift 

Now I ain't denyin' them suburban moms their fun 

But don't you try to tell me it's the way hank wanted it done 

You better keep your money-grubbin' hands off the poor man's song 

And make sure Chris Gaines stays the hell offa my front lawn 

You can take an ear from a barnyard sow/milk it 'til it turns into a cash cow 

You can lead a chick to a watering-hole 

But you can't make her drink 'til she gets white soul 

Might be rock, might be schlock, might be the Beatles or monkeys 

But you can kiss my Ozark ass, if that's country