Rebelicious

Hey, kinda like that banjo. Crank that stuff up a little. Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about. The way she looks, the way she walks, That southern twang, that dirty talk. Rides Harley's, reads Vogue. She got a tattoo on her ankle, rebel flags on her toes. One shake of that hip could make a puppy dog vicious. Rebelicious. She'll take Jack over martinis, Skinny dippin' over bikinis. That hard body, soft smile, Could send a big man to his knees and drive them little boys wild. She likes them tiny little skirts, an' the way the preacher's boy blushes Rebelicious. She's a long tall, shopping-mall, Barbie-doll trailer park queen. Mouthwaterin', 'Bout hotter than anything I've ever seen. Instrumental break. (Ah,) (Ooh.) She's an outlaw livin', ready an' willin', Sun-tanned redneck, miss hittin'. You got a mansion, you drive a vet. You wear a Rolex, hell, she ain't impressed. She like deer stands, beer cans, Baits are on the hook when she fishes Rebelicious. Aw, that's what I'm talkin' about man. Cheap sunglasses, a pick-up truck, convertible. What is that thing? a sixty-nine? Not a tan line on anything I can see, whoo. Hey, I bet you she knows David Allen Coe. --- Rebelicious - Jamey Johnson