Lacs – Field Party [feat. Colt Ford & Jj Lawhorn] Lyrics

Meet me in the pasture back in the pines. It’s goin down field party style. We’re just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild. Here it’s goin down,
Down field party style. Fire up the smoke,
Grab that old guitar. Turn up the Jones turn up the Jaw. Grab the Busch and the Budd Light. Let’s get it crunk and do it right,
We gon crank it all night. Colt Ford & Jj Lawhorn] Lyrics
You damn right,
It’s Friday night. It’s goin down field party style. We’re just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild. We in the spot that the cops can’t find. We got Harleys over here,
Mud trucks over there,
Red necks and hill billys bout every damn where. Grab the Busch and the Budd Light. Fire up the smoke,
Grab that old guitar. Bout thirty miles from anything,
The law ain’t hearin shit. It’s goin down field party style. LACSField Party [feat. It’s goin down. Fire up the smoke,
Grab that old guitar. We got the freaks in bikinis headed down to the creek. Meet me in the pasture back in the pines. They drinkin on that hunch punch,
Fore long they start to flaunt it. Turn up the Jones turn up the Jaw. Turn up the Jones turn up the Jaw. It’s goin down,
It’s goin down,
Field party style. Meet me in the pasture back in the pines. Fire up the smoke,
Grab that old guitar. We in the spot that the cops can’t find. You damn right,
It’s Friday night. It’s goin down field party style. It’s goin down. Hit em up and get em up and tell this whole damn town. It’s goin down. It’s goin down. It’s goin down,
Field party style. Tell your mom and old man,
They can bring the whole nine. Party around that bonfire,
Horseshoes and corn hoe,
Roped off with barbed wire. All we need is a field and we’ll turn the party out. Meet me in the pasture back in the pines. Rippin up them dirt roads,
Stirrin up them cattle. Show you where to make shine at as long as y’all don’t tattle. Got the grilled fired up,
Cookin every kind of meat. We in the spot that the cops can’t find. So crank up them eighteens as loud as they can get. Grab the Busch and the Budd Light. We in the spot that the cops can’t find. Grab the Busch and the Budd Light. Bad broads with tanned legs,
Raised up on cornbread. You damn right,
It’s Friday night. We got them tailgates down and the shots goin round. Rebel red bikini tops,
Man you know you want it. We got the bonfire blowin,
The crowd is steady growin,
Five thousand plus will be here before you know it. Got big kegs and chub beers. Turn up the Jones turn up the Jaw. Y’all get drunk and show out,
Cut lose and go out. Come one,
Come all,
That’s how we do it in the south. You damn right,
It’s Friday night. We’re just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild. Dancin with them daisy dukes,
All they do is turn heads. We’re just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild.


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