Fifty bucks ain't gonna cut it hoss
The tip jar didn't even cover the loss
From the gas to the motel much less get us home
My head's still throbbin' like a Waylon song
You fed us Pabst Blue Ribbon and a chilli-dog
I guess a man's word ain't worth nothin' back where you're from
'Cause everybody got drunk
And everybody got laid
They were singing all the words to my songs
We played five long sets
And everybody there stayed
Fork it over baby we'll be gone
But if you really want to try
To jack my cash this way
I'll introduce you to my .38
You better give me my money
Or there'll be hell to pay
You turned the shop vac on and the power blew
I had to duck a Shiner bottle some redneck threw
I sang Free Bird acapella
While you tried to get the breaker back on
Some chick was getting crazy in the bathroom stall
I had to pee so bad I nearly lost it all
Naw, it ain't my fault
You gotta wild ass honkytonk
'Cause everybody got drunk
And everybody got stoned
They were yelling all the words to my songs
They were jerry-rigging lighters out of telephones
Still up and going when the kegs were gone
But if you really wanna try to jack my cash this way
You can tell it to my .38
You better give me my money
Or there'll be hell to pay
Said my ears are still ringin 'cause my mic was hot
Head spinning from the Jagger shots
And I done told y'all all, I ain't goin' back to jail
But these here blisters on my fingers say the show straight rocked
Now they're grippin' on the trigger and the hammer's cocked
If I gotta get buck wild up in here I will
'Cause everybody got drunk
And everybody got laid
They were yelling all the words to my songs
We played five long sets
And everybody there stayed
Fork it over baby we'll be gone
But if you really want to try
To jack my cash this way
You'll be hearing from my .38
You better give me my money
Or there'll be hell to pay
Yeah, you better give me my money
Or there'll be hell to pay
There'll be hell to pay
Writer(s): Leroy Winchester Powell, James Patterson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com