Georgia Boy Fresh

Georgia Boy Fresh - Demun Jones Lyrics

Me and my body spent thousands on raising these rides

Spent a few more thousands on the speakers inside

I wanted a paint job but rapped it in mate black

Decided I want it camouflaged and took it right back

I'm bumping Jones county and it's loud and clear

Now you can't see me coming but you can damn sure hear

There's plenty of room to recline in my crew max

Cowboy leather seats and titanium packed

Now that's 50 on the truck, customize another 50

[?] could have bought her bid me

Now you can tell a county boy ain't scared to drop a stack

Rednecks blowing paychecks to be exact, uh



G-G-Goergia boy fresh

We ain't playing withchya

We ain't playing withchya



To all the redneck women that bathing in mud

Ain't nothing hotter than a country girl that don't give a what

And they come in every size, triple X to [?]

But every girl looks better in a rebel flag bikini

You think she's hot, now wait till you see her drive a doolie

With a 12 pack of honeys in the bed [?] Jacuzzi

Complete with LED that turn purple and blue

The colors move with the music and the girls do too

Now they all getting drunk, drinking straight out of a picture cone

[?] shake it like a polaroid picture maker

Hillbilly drew like he's in the first grade now

Everybody's following, they started a parade, uh



G-G-Goergia boy fresh

We ain't playing withchya

We ain't playing withchya



And if you think it's silly for country boys to bust wide

Don't you take a trip on down to mount [?]

Crawling rock in the [?]

Instead of judging covers of books, come experience it

Don't let the flags scare ya, we won't hurt a fly

But threaten the wife and kids then you gotta die, yeah

Family comes first, we consider God our member

That's why we decorate a tree right around December, uh



G-G-Goergia boy fresh

We ain't playing withchya

We ain't playing withchya



Catch on delivery, don't write me a check

If Demun don't get dollars he ain't rocking a set

And I ain't with the merch cut unless you told her to count it

And fitting in the paper work, don't ask me about it

If your drunk buddy's thinking bout grabbing a shirt

Tell him check my track record, merch snatchers get hurt

Pretty sore grill scattered over the map

And I ain't even tryna brag, that there's a fact

But I don't want trouble, I'm just tryna sing

And let the world know how a county boy does his thing

Take care of my girls, make mom and dad proud

Hit the stage like a beast and the crowd screams loud



G-G-Goergia boy fresh

We ain't playing withchya

We ain't playing withchya