Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Yeah, oh (oh)

If I see two Maybachs, I'ma park it in the middle
Throw my keys at the park attendant, "Get 'em"
No ID, I'ma walk up through the middle
Candy-coated whip like a pocket full of Skittles
Money in my pocket but I don't know how to act right
Glock in the glove box like a flashlight
Cub in the mop-top in the back like
'Zilla gorilla, he's a killer, that's night-night
Legends in the fall
Got me a Chevy, baby, and I'ma let it crawl
Got me a pack ready, and I'ma make a call
Given your racks ready and maybe we can talk, y'all
Know we get down
Motherfuckers in East Nashville done got beat up, yeah
Talkin' shit on the woozy, got cracked
Left him on his back, left his fucking feet up, we just

Bad motherfuckers
Bad motherfuckers, yeah
Some bad motherfuckers better listen to the song
Tryna be good but they wanna do me wrong
So give me that Loc in the tone
Ghetto cowboy stay ready, all night long let 'em mop

I hear 'em talkin', gawkin' when they see me walkin' to my
1979, 1979 (box)
I see you stalkin', hawkin' with your coffin over my
1979, 1979 (box)
You mad, I can tell it, tell it 'cause you jealous over my
1979, 1979 (box)
I pop that trunk and nail it, send it sailin' from my
1979

If I get drunk I'ma leave her, come and pick her up tomorrow
Don't get behind the wheel if I'm pickin' up a bottle
Never roll the dice but, yeah, I hit the Lotto
Slum to the dirt, boy, livin' by the motto
Catfish Billy trappin' out the Amoco
Rebel, I'm a rebel like David Allan Coe
Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out dough
Granny, does your dog bite? "no, child, no"
Legends in the fall
Never go back to being broke, not at all
Got a Gold plaque up on the studio wall
I had to go back to get it from my papa, uh
Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee, uh
A recipe for disaster, put the beat up
Me and the Chevy's like pastors to Jesus
A haystack, I'm that needle, we just

Bad motherfuckers
Bad motherfuckers, yeah
Some bad motherfuckers better listen to the song
Tryna be good but they wanna do me wrong
So give me that Loc in the tone
Ghetto cowboy stay ready, all night long let 'em mop

I hear 'em talkin', gawkin' when they see me walkin' to my
1979, 1979 (box)
I see you stalkin', hawkin' with your coffin over my
1979, 1979 (box)
You mad, I can tell it, tell it 'cause you jealous over my
1979, 1979 (box)
I pop that trunk and nail it, send it sailin' from my
1979 (box), 1979 (box)
I hear 'em talkin', gawkin' when they see me walkin' to my
1979, 1979 (box)
I see you stalkin', hawkin' with your coffin over my
1979, 1979 (box)
You mad, I can tell it, tell it 'cause you jealous over my
1979, 1979 (box)
I pop that trunk and nail it, send it sailin' from my (From my)

Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
Oh (oh), giddy up, giddy up (giddy up, giddy up)
1979, oh (Oh)

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Michael Wayne Atha