Karaoké Outlaw Upchurch & Luke Combs

Where have the rebels gone

We don't need another pretty boy singin' pretty songs

Fake country boys doin' country all wrong

We need another Haggard or a Johnny Cash

Somebody chewin' 'baccer and whippin' ass

I need a preacher

I need a savior

How about y'all

Can I get an outlaw

Let me get a outlaw like the man who raised me up

Haulin' chickens to Kentucky in the back of beat up trucks

Because all I'm seein' now is Hollywood wearin' some huntin' gear

And TV shows 'bout idiots that think country is drinkin' beer

I'm sick of seein' skinny jeans smilin' like a cover girl

I wanna see some kids outback with twenty-twos poppin' squirrels

I wanna see some young guns goin' out on a duck hunt

And lesser of this Flappy Bird and actin' like a lazy bum

'Cos trends got it twisted and they make country a petty style

Now where's all my country folks that actually could go survive

When that stock market crashes

I'll be somewhere deep off in these pines

Killin' shit, kickin' ass and takin' what the hell is mine

We don't need another pretty boy singin' pretty songs

Fake country boys doin' country all wrong

We need another Haggard or a Johnny Cash

Somebody chewin' 'baccer and whippin' ass

I need a preacher

I need a savior

How about y'all

Can I get an outlaw

I got scars on my knuckles from a loud mouth in the parkin' lot

Knife wounds in my back from so called friends that tend to lie a lot

There's snakes up in the grass but bubba shit

I'm used to walkin' tall

And if I feel you're talkin' shit won't second guess to jack your jaw

Today the world we live in realness tends to wash and fade away

That's why if you ain't walkin' shit then I don't care for shit you say

I met the folks I idolize and so far they're some white ass lies

Just country fake in good disguise

Now tell me how that tends to fly

I'm on my southern pride twang

Baby come and roll with me

Backwoods as it gets and not the shit that you see on TV

I'm talkin' Chevy C-Ten

Kickin' up some brown rocks

Thirty-O-Six with a cedar-stained wood stock

We don't need another pretty boy singin' pretty songs

Fake country boys doin' country all wrong

We need another Haggard or a Johnny Cash

Somebody chewin' 'baccer and whippin' ass

I need a preacher

I need a savior

How about y'all

Can I get an outlaw

I stay comin' in like a rock so they be callin' me the Scottsdale

Cornbread fed and you know

I'm raisin' plenty hell

I'm turnt up like some honkies at a kegger party in a hotel

And I'm breakin' down these barriers like drywall that needs repair

I'm cold with my shit boy

I'm cold with my style boy

That backwoods, that hick town

That late night, that drivin' round

That George Strait cranked real loud

Got lightnin' bugs on my windshield

That back road, no cops found and I'm sippin' on that hot brown

I RHEC shit, my motto

Got rednecks by the truckload

That smell good, stay sprayed on

I hit downtown and take girls home

That bonfire, light that up

Home grown shit, roll one

I got a gun rack in my back glass and a big gun it holds one

We don't need another pretty boy singin' pretty songs

Fake country boys doin' country all wrong

We need another Haggard or a Johnny Cash

Somebody chewin' 'baccer and whippin' ass

I need a preacher

I need a savior

How about y'all

Can I get an outlaw