If I Don't Tell You I'm Country

 If I Don’t Tell You I’m Country

©2021 FTM Satire Lyrics

I’m from backside of the backwoods

Drive a step-side and it rides good

I got a hot chick and a cold one

Wanna talk big, we can go, son

But the beat snaps and the bass drops

And I speak slang, hey is this pop?

Chorus

If I don’t tell you I’m country

That I like my beer real cold

If I don’t mention my hometown

And the bonfires don’t glow

You might think you’re cranking Bieber

These boots are just for show

So if I don’t tell you I’m country

How are you gonna know?

Dress in fashion, I got a stylist

Check out my hair man, it’s the wildest

I go huntin’ but it’s guided

And yeah I work hard, exercisin’

Ain’t no fiddle, and I don’t twang

And there’s some tuner when I sang

So if I don’t tell you I’m country

That I like my beer real cold

If I don’t mention a pasture

And the bonfires don’t glow

You might think I’m Ed Sheeran

These jeans are just for show

So if I don’t tell you I’m country

How are you gonna know?

Bridge

Yeah that first verse was a big lie

I was born out in Granny White

If I don’t tell you I’m country

That I like my beer real cold

If I don’t mention my hometown

And the bonfires don’t glow

You might think you’re cranking Bieber

These boots are just for show

So if I don’t tell you I’m country

How are you gonna know?

Party Song About Partying While You're Listening to a Song About Partying

 Seems like half the mainstream country songs are just tunes about partying or driving in a pickup truck while listening to songs about partying or driving in a pickup truck… People who are working out don’t listen to songs about lifting weight. People driving to work don’t listen to songs about commuting. Anyway, here’s my shot at a song made for listening to while you’re doing what the song is about. 

What I’m Doing Now

©2021 FTM Satire Lyrics

I’m driving a pickup truck

My foot is on the gas

I’m listening to music that sucks

Goin’ a little too fast

I’m rolling the window down

To throw out a beer can

Just saw a sheriff turn around

I hope he knows my dad

This song’s about what I’m doing now

I know you don’t like to think

So turn this stupid song up loud

That’s what I’m doing now

That’s what you’re doing now

Got my arm around my girl

Her foot is on the dash

I’m rhyming that first line with ‘world’

Cause that’s how you make the cash

We’re headed out to a bonfire

Why don’t you do the same?

My truck has Mickey Thompson tires

Don’t you forget that name

This song’s about what I’m doing now

I know you don’t like to think

So turn this boring song up loud

That’s what I’m doing now

That’s what you’re doing now

Bridge

I’m not writing no poetry

You don’t wanna get too deep

It’s party music while you’re partying

Now here’s a few snap beats

This song’s about what you’re doing now

So let’s hold up our drinks

And turn this mid-tempo song up loud

That’s what I’m doing now

That’s what you’re doing now

Every 2019 Country Hit

Every 2019 Country Hit

©2019 FTM Satire

Snap beat snap beat snap beat, baby girl

I’m shameless, I’ll rhyme that with world

Hey sweetie, are you here all by yourself?

That’s not creepy cause I sung it smooth as hell

Got a sweet beard and a trendy tattoo

Unkempt shirt and a gelled up do

You can tell I’m a bad boy, I bet

Because of those things I already said

And the chorus just goes…

Oooh ooooh oooh girl

Oooh oooh oooh

Oooh oooh yeah girl

Oooh oooh yeah

Snap beat snap beat clap beat little thang

Sang that line with a fake country twang

Barely audible fiddle going on

So people think this is a country song

But the chorus be like…

Ayeee ayeee ayeee girl

Oooh oooh oooh

Oooh oooh yeah girl

Oooh oooh yeah

You know damn well what happens this verse

Got a big truck that never touches dirt

Wanna get in it and get outta here?

I’m tall and handsome so have no fears

Oooh ooooh oooh girl

Oooh oooh oooh

Oooh oooh yeah girl

Oooh oooh yeah

Snap beat

Way More Countrier

A response to the return of "look how country I am" songs, particularly Hardy's "Rednecker" (which I realize may be satire, but still...)

Way More Countrier

©2019 FTM Satire

I see the pissing contest's back

Country this and country that

Well let me tell you something Jack

I'm countrier than y'all

I live where GPS can't track

My daughter's bike has a gun rack

It ain't no rumor, it's a fact...

I'm way more countrier than y'all

So many deer heads you can't see my wall

I own five robes that Ric Flair wore

Drive a truck with a truck painted on the door

Say your neck is red and your jowls are fat

Well I'm way more countrier than that

Everything I kill, I fry it

Hit a possum, yeah I'll try it

You're rednecker? I don't buy it

I'm countrier than y'all

My wife's on a cornbread diet

Named my son after Bray Wyatt

Take a look, you won't deny it

I'm way more countrier than y'all

Can't find my trailer, the weeds are so tall

I sneak a six pack into church

Got a whole room full of Hee Haw merch

You're from the backwoods? I'm further back

Yeah, I'm way more countrier than that

Bridge

You caught a big bass

Well kiss my ass

I've got a tattoo of Jesus

drinking a Pabst

I'm way more countrier than y'all

So many deer heads you can't see my wall

I own five robes that Ric Flair wore

Drive a truck with a truck painted on the door

Say your neck is red and your jowls are fat

Well I'm way more countrier than that

The Next Smash for Jordan Lynch or Mitchell Davis or Whoever

If You Say I'm Not Country

©2019 FTM Lyrical Satirical

I like sugar in my unsweet tea

And my Texas chili full of beans

And I'll be on your ass like jeans

If you say I'm not country

I like to hunt a little snipe

And eat honeysuckle when it's ripe

And mister I might pull a knife

If you say I'm not country

Cause I'm from where they sing about

in songs from Kenny and Tim

Down there on that ol' rural route

Where I have definitely been

Church and mama and all that stuff

And girls sweet as Georgia plums

If you say I'm not, I'll call your bluff

I'm as country as they come

I love to crank those old outlaw songs

Turn up the Brantley and sing along

I'll throw hands and prove you wrong

If you say I'm not country

Cause I love me a Grizzly pouch

There's red on my neck skin

From working tater fields down south

Where I have definitely been

Shine and biscuits and all that stuff

And girls sweet as Georgia plums

If you say I'm not, I might get rough

I'm as country as they come

Bridge

You can say I use snap beats

You can say I'm auto-tuned

But you can't say I'm not country

Just look at my Aldean tattoo

Yeah I'm from where they sing about

in songs from Kenny and Tim

Down there on that ol' rural route

Where I have definitely been

Church and mama and all that stuff

And girls sweet as Georgia plums

If you say I'm not, I'll call your bluff

I'm as country as they come

Americana Man: A Satire Lyric

Americana Man

(©2018 Farce the Music satire)

My patchy beard is finally filling in

Gained a couple pounds, need another ten

Gotta be chubby not quite fat

Buy myself a pork pie hat

Pretty soon it won't look like I'm playing pretend

Sold the F-150 that daddy bought

Quit the mailroom job that mama got

Grabbed a guitar, learned some chords

Wrote a song about the Lord

And twenty more about prisons, farms, and pot

Americana man

Honest and real as you can stand

Ain't got a story but I got a plan

to be

an Americana man

My uncle's cousin knows a producer dude

Produced a few roots rock who's who's

Just need a few more flannel shirts

I'll be so damn real it hurts

Even though I'd rather be Kane Brown or Luke

Americana man

Honest and real as you can stand

No backstory but I got a plan

to be

an Americana man

Bridge

Hire a fiddle

Hire a steel man

Gonna be lit

Hit you in the feels man

Americana man

Honest and real as you can stand

No backstory but I got a plan

to be

an Americana man

Token Country Song

Token Country Song

©2017 Farce Satire

Hey y'all, do you remember me

I'm a country song, long time no see

It's the only time you'll hear a fiddle play

Rest of the album's hip-hop and pop

Country section's just where I'm stocked

But you best believe, this ain't no mistake

Chorus

This is the token country song

In the middle of an album fourteen tracks long

Y'all say "yeehaw" and stomp your feet along

This is the token country song

Stuck this in for nostalgia's sake

So ironically crank it by the lake

The beat will be back booming soon enough

Here's where I really amp up the twang

Here's where I drop Alan Jackson's name

Even though Lil Uzi is who I really love

(Chorus)

Bridge

Here's a weird drum loop and a rhyme that's fat

So you don't forget that I'm down with that

But

This is the token country song

In the middle of an album fourteen tracks long

Y'all say "hell yeah" and stomp your feet along

This is the token country song

A New Summer Smash Hit

Just Like We Did Last Summer
©2017 FTM Satire

Baby here we go again
A summer song for your and your friends
June, July and August heat
It's the same damn song with a different beat
Ice cold beers and happy tears
Cause swimsuit styles show more ass this year
Pour up drinks till the world's a blur
And crank whatever rapper's popular

Just like we did last summer
Dumb ass music and weak rum runners
You got pirate booty and I wanna plunder
No it ain't legal, but you got my number
Beaches, buds, and backseat hummers
Just like we did last summer

Honey, here's where I hip-hop talk
Even though I'm as white as chalk
Let's skinny dip, get a tan
Then dance by some trucks the way you can
If booty's wrong I'm a sinner
So turn it around like a fidget spinner
Auto-tune this familiar line
Pass around a jar of store bought shine

Just like we did last summer
Pickup trucks, Jeeps, and Forerunners
Country boys booming that bass like thunder
If the cops show up it'll be a bummer
Beaches, buds, and backseat hummers
Just like we did last summer

Bridge
This part's where we slow it down and get a little romantic
Girl you save me from myself, moonlight, blah blah enchanted
You be the housewife, I'll be the plumber...

Just like we did last summer
Dumb ass music and weak rum runners
You got pirate booty and I wanna plunder
No it ain't legal, but you got my number
Beaches, buds, and backseat hummers
Just like we did last summer

She Ain't Perfect: A Satire Lyric

A satire of all those "oh my girlfriend is so perfect/she saved me/she's a little crazy but I love her" songs that never seem to stop on country radio.

She Ain't Perfect
©FTM Satire Lyrics

She's got those cut offs on
The ones with the Buffalo stain
My green eyed D-list stripper
Always yelling "make it rain!"
She's got her bare feet propped
On my dash and they don't smell right
Windows down and Migos up
And right now we're in a fight

She ain't perfect but she'll do
And I don't love her
But she doesn't love me too
I ain't worth a damn, it's true
But somehow she's worse
No she ain't perfect but she'll do

She's an ungraceful drunk
Wears a flat brim cap turned back
Bought us some Sam Hunt tickets
And she punched me when I laughed
She lets the curse words fly
And it sounds more sleazy than cute
Anytime we get it on
She won't take off her furry boots

She ain't perfect but she'll do
And I don't love her
But she doesn't love me too
I ain't worth a damn, it's true
But somehow she's worse
No she ain't perfect but she'll do

Bridge
She don't go to church and I won't take her home to mama
We're not even Facebook friends cause I can't take the drama

She ain't perfect but she'll do
And I don't love her
But she doesn't love me too
I ain't worth a damn, it's true
But somehow she's worse
No she ain't perfect but she'll do

Rockin' Around in Skinny Jeans

(I wrote a whole Christmas song parody around @fiveoletsgo 's title.)

Rocking Around in Skinny Jeans

(FTM Lyrical Satirical) 

Rocking around in skinny jeans


at the Christmas party, brah


Some mistletoe hung where chicks can see


It's hanging above my crotch

Rocking around in skinny jeans


Makes the chain on my wallet ring


Later we'll do some body shots


and auto-tuned caroling

You will feel just like a Yuletime baller


When you hear, voices holler


"Let's be merry; Pour me some Goose and cranberry"

Rocking around in skinny jeans


Have a lit ol' holiday


Everyone stumble drunkenly


Round a bonfire of stolen crates

You will feel a little something something


When you see fists are pumping


"Crank some Future; pour a line of Fireball shooters"

Rocking around in skinny jeans


Now it's time to spit some game


Take this ho ho ho dancing merrily


To my jacked up Christmas sleigh

The Truth About Country Pasture Parties in 2016

 

2016 Country Throwdown

(Drunk People Looking at Their Phones)
©2016 Farce the Music Satires

I've seen all those videos
Booty shaking girls and bros
All dancing around a big ol' bonfire
That's something I would like to see
And Billy Dukes invited me
So I put gravel underneath my tires

Got out past the county line
Dreaming of hotties and shine
Cold ones loaded in a Yeti I just bought
Followed that big cloud of dust
Crossed the ditch and there I was
Ready to throw down and this is what I saw

Chorus
Drunk people looking at their phones
Drunk people looking at their phones
Buncha Country Outfitter clones
One guy cranking a Yeezy song
and drunk people looking at their phones

Girls weren't shaking what they had
Just tapping screens and looking mad
No keg stands, nobody kicking up their boots
Bros weren't fighting, causing scenes
Just sharing "crying Jordan" memes
Shook my head thinkin' "Is this what's it's all come to?"

Drunk people looking at their phones
Drunk people looking at their phones
Circle of trucks with their shining chrome
One guy cranking a 2 Chainz song
and drunk people looking at their phones

Bridge
I need a word with Mr. Luke Bryan
and I guess Florida-Georgia's lyin'
Cause all I see is

Drunk people looking at their phones
Drunk people looking at their phones
No skinny dipping, no punches thrown
Just one guy cranking a Sam Hunt song
and drunk people looking at their phones

Next Big Hit for Cole Lynch or Dustin Brown or Whoever

Forget This Song
©2016 Farce the Music Satires

Hey baby, this song's for you
You might not remember it when it's through
But it's not that bad
There's some fiddle hidden deep
Barely a melody for your mind to keep
But it won't make you sad

Chorus
Forget this song in 3 or 4 minutes
Just tap your cute lil' foot while it's spinnin'
Drive your truck and hunt for bucks
and drink a beer and sing along
Until you forget this song

Cutie girl, crank this one up
Text your friends and fill your cup
With some crappy beer
Might not even make any sense
But it makes dollars in my defense
So be of good cheer

And
Forget this song in 3 or 4 minutes
Just tap your cute lil' foot while it's spinnin'
Cherry lips and country things
Cut off jeans and please don't yawn
Until you forget this song

Bridge
While it's playing it might feel special to you
And it'll go to number one but it's really number two

So, forget this song when I put out another
That one'll be about twistin' the covers
But for now let's party on
and drink a beer and sing along
Until you forget this song
Forget this song

What song?

Country Style!

Law of natural selection at work.

Here's a satirical lyric sent to us by singer/songwriter Jeff Przech. You can almost hear Cole Swindell singing if you just imagine...

And go check out Jeff's music here! His 2015 album Sounds Like Fresh is a catchy mix of Americana, alt-country, and pop rock.

COUNTRY STYLE

(To the tune of… pretty much anything else on country radio….)

Moonlight shines down on the lake and over to the sand

Passes right through these Corona bottles, got one in each hand

I’ll take off my white t-shirt so you can’t see the stain

And if your peach wine cooler tastes like roofies, darlin’, that I can’t explain

There’s a lake right here in front of us, why don’t we jump right in

And I’ll find a place on that bod of yours the mosquitoes haven’t been

Doin’ it Country Style, gettin’ wild, girl you look so fine

Like a breakfast special at the Cracker Barrel for $7.99

Do it Country Style, wet and wild, girl we got it made

And it don’t bother me that you just passed the seventh grade

That’s Country Style

Watch them Daisy Dukes with eyes wide open as they slide down past your knees

See them goosebumps rising on your ass caused by the summer breeze

The wind is warm but the water’s gold, damn that’s just my luck

Now the only nuts you’ll see are the ones that are hanging off my truck

The night is hot and so am I so girl, don’t make me wait

All over you like the Nascar sticker on my Chevrolet tailgate

Gonna do it Country Style, gettin’ wild, girl you look so fine

Like the high school football team I’m gonna touchdown on you tonight

Do it Country Style, wet and wild, girl you make me wanna sing

Have another shot of this Fireball and you won’t feel a thing

That’s Country Style

(90’s Alt Rock Guitar solo)

Got my ball cap pulled down nice and low, think I’ve had enough

I should be at that Florida Georgia line by the time that you wake up

Baby I got your number but don’t be waitin’ for me to call

Three and a half minutes of magic is what you get and that’s all

Do it Country Style, gettin’ wild, girl you look so fine

Don’t you message me if you happen to see those pics I took online

Do it Country Style, wet and wild, girl we got it made

Me and my bros and the redneck hoes throwin’ up some shade

That’s Country Style

That’s Country Style

It's Hard Out Here for a Bro

Hard Out Here for a Bro
©2015 FTM Satire

Since the bloggers started killing fun
I can't call girls a hottie
All I can say's she's my favorite one
With a physically fit body
And the label says we drink too much
So turn up Coca Cola
As I drive my eco-friendly truck
Can't tell her to slide it over

It's hard out here for a bro
They won't let me sing about hoes
Can't do the stanky legg on my tailgate
Can only turn the party up about halfway
It's hard out here for a bro

Maddie & Tae have been throwing shade
And old ass singers hatin'
Sayin' all I do is drink and get laid
Well duh, ain't it great man?
But here I am driving legal speeds
With no chains on my wallet
Liberals out here killin' my dreams
Maybe I'll go back to college

It's hard out here for a bro
Tides are turning on Music Row
Can't crack a cold one in my Chevrolet
Can only turn the party up about halfway
It's hard out here for a bro

Bridge
I miss getting turnt
Things are changing so fast

I miss Ed Hardy, I miss swaying ass

It's hard out here for a bro
They won't let me sing about hoes
Can't do the Shmoney dance on my tailgate
Can only turn the party up about halfway
It's hard out here for a bro

Dumbass Satire

Dumbass Country Song 

©2014 FTM Satires

Babygirl honey are you ready to go
Gotta drive this boner down a gravel road
I'm likin' the way you look in those jeans
Wanna take 'em off and have sex if you know what I mean
But first we'll find a party and get real drunk
Turn up some country but only if it bumps
Me and my bros talking about dumb shit
Might whip out my pecker cause I'm pretty proud of it

Chorus
Let's raise up a glass to being dumbass
Celebrate our stupidity
Don't care about grades, we just like getting laid
Party like we're on CMT
Sloshing red cups and crankin' on up
These trucks that we all drive for free
Our goal in life is blacking out tonight
You know I know we'll always be
Dumbass

Sweetygirl sexy are you ready to go
Tan lines bare feet blah blah let your blonde hair flow
I wanna get inside your lingerie
But not like try it on because that just sounds gay
In the bed, in the creek, maybe on the gate
I'm too drunk to sex anyway, so let's hit second base
And if the blue lights catch us bein' bad
I'll whip out my cellphone and call up my lawyer dad

Yeah, let's raise up a glass to being dumbass
Celebrate our stupidity
Don't care about grades, we just like getting laid
Party like we're on CMT
Sloshing red cups and crankin' on up
These trucks that we all drive for free
Our goal in life is blacking out tonight
You know I know we'll always be
Dumbass

Bridge
Whiskey dashboard moonshine chrome
Yep yep oohhhhhhhhhhh

(Repeat Chorus)

A Self-Aware Bro Country Song

Get Down and Turn Up
(© 2014 FTM Satire)

Hotties with bodies
Shakin' gyratin'
Binge drinking their way through this song
Jager and Jagger
Haggard and swagger
Yeah, I got my signifiers on

Crank up this song about cranking up songs
About parties in trucks while you party in trucks
This next line is dumb but you'll sing along
Yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah
Get down and turn up
Get down and turn up

Drink and drink faster
Pass out in pastures
Have a great time you underage kids
Paycheck and Jay-Z
Drive while you're tipsy
Instagram so folks know you did

Crank up this song about cranking up songs
About parties in trucks while you party in trucks
This next line is dumb but you'll sing along
Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh
Get down and turn up
Get down and turn up

Bridge
The bridge is for sexy
So girls drop them panties
This night's so enchanted
Moonlight on your fanny

While you crank up this song about cranking up songs
About parties in trucks while you party in trucks
This next line is filler but you'll sing along
Way oh way oh way oh way oh
Get down and turn up
Get down and turn up

Barbed Wire Tattoo (A Bro-Country Ballad)

Barbed Wire Tattoo - A Bro-Country Ballad
(©2014 FTM Satire)

I tried to send you a shot of my junk
But I guess you're blocking my cell
Somebody said you're with that new punk
That smart dude what talks real well
I know we broke up a few weeks ago
And I'm not supposed to come near
But I've been circling your block real slow
Cinnamon whiskey mixin' with tears

Chorus
How much Fireball is it gonna take to get you off my mind?
How'm I gonna keep this full-size jacked-up truck between the lines?
Now your fine ass goes riding in some college boy's Isuzu
And I gotta cover up your name in this barbed wire tattoo

I tried to hook up with your friend Emily
She can really make that thang shake
But every kiss tasted like your memory
So I made her get off my tailgate
I know you said that I'm a real douche
From my chrome to my Axe Body Spray
But the thought of that nerd screwing you
Makes me want to punch him in the face

How much Fireball is it gonna take to get you off my mind?
How'm I gonna keep this chromed-out Chevy truck between the lines?
Now your fine ass goes riding in some sissy boy's Isuzu
And I gotta cover up your name in this barbed wire tattoo

Bridge
Saw you and him at the stoplight
He was reaching for your hand to hold
Thought about getting out to fight
But I hit the gas and rolled coal

How much Fireball is it gonna take to get you off my mind?
How'm I gonna keep this full-size jacked-up truck between the lines?
Now your fine ass goes riding in some college boy's Isuzu
And I gotta cover up your name in this barbed wire tattoo

Tag
I tried to send you a shot of my junk

Lyrical Satirical: Country B**ches

Country B**ches

©2014 FTM Satire

She's a pair of shorts on a pair of legs

Dancing too close to the tailgate edge

She's a blonde haired blue eyed sexy thang

She's a late night text and a backseat bang

Lord I love them country b**ches

Them howdy y'alls in tiny britches

White girl wasted, weekend wreck

Buyin' us beer on daddy's check

Come around and scratch my itches

Lord I love them country b**ches

She's a big ol' rack in a tiny shirt

Crank some Hank and she can make it twerk

She's tan line teases and licking lips

She's a big ol' booty and a skinny dip

Lord I love them country b**ches

Them howdy y'alls in tiny britches

White girl wasted, weekend wreck

Buyin' us beer on daddy's check

Come around and scratch my itches

Lord I love them country b**ches

Bridge

She's a baby bump at sweet sixteen

Tenth grader in maternity jeans

She's a late night call saying it's mine

But I'm on to the next country girl in line

Lord I love them country b**ches

Them moneymakers in tiny britches

White girl wasted, weekend wreck

Fake phone numbers, names to forget

Come around and scratch my itches

Lord I love them country b**ches

Wannabe Bro-Country Song

Good Ass Night

©2014 FTM Satires

It's been a bad week

I failed remedial math

My truck nuts broke and 

My Reaper had a flat

At least it's Friday

My luck's gonna switch

Find me a party

And a bad country b**ch

And have a good ass night

Give the bonfire a light

Drink a beer yeah I might

Steal a kiss, have a fight

Son that's right

I'm gonna have a good ass night

I'm buzzed yeah ya heard

When I pull in the spot

Park my shit in the mud

Country swag on lock

Lookin' for a dime

Holla at deez hoes

Crank up some George Strait

Don't really like it tho'

But it's a good ass night

Give the bonfire a light

Drink a beer yeah I might

Steal a kiss, have a fight

Son that's right

I'm gonna have a good ass night

Bridge

Okay I've been lying, that really ain't me

I'm home playing Minecraft on my PS3

Got the radio up

And jealous as f***

Of the fellas in trucks wearing Ed Hardy tees

Havin' a good ass night

Givin' bonfires a light

Drinkin' beer wish I might

Steal a kiss, have a fight

Son that's right

Wish I could have a good ass night