Blake Shelton Reigns

Another Big Accomplishment for Florida-Georgia Line!

Honest Radio Promo Ad: Brad Paisley

Got Country Bro?

If Dallas Davidson Had Written These Americana Classics

If Dallas Davidson Had Written________

Steve Earle - Copperhead Road

Well my name's Brantley Gallimore

Standin' in the line at the grocery store

The only fake ID we've got is mine

So I'm buying' five jars of Kroger Moonshine

Lyle Lovett - If I Had a Boat

If I had a boat

I'd fill it up with hotties

And if I had a jet ski

I'd ride around my boat

And we could party all night

Shake it for me, hotties

Me upon my jet ski round my boat

Ryan Adams - Come Pick Me Up

I wish I could

Come pick you up

In my truck

Buzz you up

Crank Nickelback

See all my friends

They're all full of beer

There's no lines in your tan

Let's skinny-dip

I wish you would

Lucinda Williams - Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

Chillin' in a pasture outside of Macon

Jay-Z is rappin' on the radio

Smell of bonfire, dip and Jager

Truck wheels on a gravel road

Gram Parsons - Return of the Grievous Angel

Won't you rock my world little country girl

And ride with me out of town

Check out these sweet deer tracks I got at the tattoo parlor

And then pull your cut-off jeans on down

Brad Paisley Lyric Parody: Pseudo Country Zone

Pseudo Country Zone

(Parody of Brad Paisley's "Southern Comfort Zone")

When your wheelhouse is the sound of Aldean,

The first time you leave it can be weird, but you're appalling

Not everybody drinks and drives, not everybody is a tool

Not every girl wears cut offs, on dates and job interviews

Not everybody likes to pose or dance around on CMT

Not everybody has to list country things to prove they're country

Oh, douchey man,

You won't understand

When I miss Merle singin' me back home

And I'm tired of pickup truck songs

I will lose IQ points till I go

Outside the pseudo country zone

I have heard the songs of Snow; Jr. ain't the only "Hank"

I don't think a country song should make my speakers crank

I have seen Keith Whitley play at a southern rodeo

He didn't mention pasture fights or bust out a hip-hop flow

I really don't like to see somebody take a pee,

All over the things I cherish like art and honesty

And I miss Merle singin' me back home

And I'm tired of pickup truck songs

I will lose IQ points till I go

Outside the pseudo country zone

I hate your tight jeans and your shakin'

Guitars jamming, disco lights

You're so well-trained at fakin'

Unscuffed Justins, teeth pearly white

I have since become a wanderer

Cause I'm sick of all that crap

Sometimes to find a real treasure

You have to leave the beaten path

Clearchannel's playin' a dick again

And I miss Merle singin' me back home

And I'm tired of pickup truck songs

I will lose IQ points till I go

Outside the pseudo country zone

From the Archives: Taylor Swift Parody

from JAN 5, 2009

Mother-in-Law

(Parody of Taylor Swift’s “Tim McGraw”)

My wife said we’ll have a real good time

She’ll only stay a couple of nights

I said “That’s a lie”

She’ll pull up in her SUV

2 weeks of luggage behind the seat

Wearin’ an evil smile

An’ I’ll be fit to be tied before too long

Smokin’ on the back porch wishin’ that battle axe was gone

When I think mother-in-law

I don’t feel too good at all

I dread each visit, every call

Her voice like a goat caught in a gate

And I’ll know happiness

On the day she’s laid to rest

I know she’ll give the good Lord stress

She’ll raise a holy stink

Oh, when I think mother-in-law

I think I need a drink

December saw a month of tears

An’ thankin’ God for ice cold beer

To help me stay sane

That woman cut me down like weeds

Her baby deserves better than me

And I’ll never change

It was hard not to find a gun and put it to good use

But I ain’t suicidal and that bitch is bulletproof

When I think mother-in-law

I don’t feel too good at all

I dread each visit, every call

Her voice like a goat caught in a gate

And I’ll know happiness

On the day she’s laid to rest

I know she’ll give the good Lord stress

She’ll raise a holy stink

Oh, when I think mother-in-law

I think I need a drink

I’ve been sleepin’ on the couch since she left

‘Cause when she fin’ly did go

I told her when she got back home

To tell the other demons hello

When I think mother-in-law

I don’t feel too good at all

I dread each visit, every call

Her voice like a goat caught in a gate

And I’ll know happiness

On the day she’s laid to rest

I know she’ll give the good Lord stress

She’ll raise a holy stink

Oh, when I think mother-in-law

I think I need a drink

Tag

My wife said we’ll have a real good time

She’ll only stay a couple of nights

I said “That’s a lie”

Lyric Parody: The Only Way I Pose (Aldean, Bryan, Church)

The Only Way I Pose

(Parody of "The Only Way I Know" by Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan and Eric Church)

(Jason:)

Well, I stand up here but I don't dance around

Where my lips pour out a kinda whiny sound

Jeans so tight they injure my pair

Telling you I'm country's all I've got to share

I just cover rock music in dust

So country radio don't make a fuss

Sometimes I rap, soccer moms love the fun

Let 'em see my Wrangler buns

That’s the only way I pose

Country for the bros and ho's

Lame-ass songs and wallet chains

Make them dollaz, make it rain

Pluck guitar, I'm holdin'

Can't play it but you don't know it

Dig a little deeper and you won't find anything more

That’s the only way I pose

(Luke:)

The truth, it hurts ‒ I'm a straight-up tool

Used to sing okay till I had you fooled

Country twang to country corny

Found out how to make dumb girls horny

Dance around in my skin tight denim

There ain't even a set of balls in 'em

Bump and grind in my jeans so shiny

Gonna turn round and let you see my hiney

That’s the only way I pose

Country for the bros and ho's

Lame-ass songs and booty shakes

Boom boom speakers, make it rain

Smile big till you're blinded

Credibility, I can't find it

Dig a little deeper and you won't find anything more

That’s the only way I pose

(Eric:)

Behind shades, to the bank I'm laughin'

but I'm way too cool to join in rappin'

I'm an outlaw who's as safe as he can be

That’s the only way I pose

Country for the bros and ho's

Arrogance and indoor shades

Get some cred off Waylon's name

Hey ladies, no peakin'

Just show my ass when I'm speakin'

Dig a little deeper and you won't find anything more

That’s the only way I pose

(All together now)

That’s the only way we pose

Country for the bros and ho's

Diggin' graves, in soft ground

Buryin' the country sounds

Bank vaults are wide open

Hey Jason, stop that gropin'

Dig a little deeper and you won't find anything more

That’s the only way we pose

That's the only way we pose

Johnny Manziel Parody Lyric

I asked our ol' buddy Bobby Joe if it was okay if I posted this. 

Haven't heard back from him, but since he's contributed parodies before and since 

I'll promote his Kindle book of lyric parodies (!!), he'll probably be okay with it.

This is a parody of Shelley Fabares' 1962 #1 hit, "Johnny Angel."

Johnny Football (©2012 BobbyJoe parody lyrics) Johnny Football Johnny Football Johnny Football Johnny Football You're a Heisman to be Johnny Football Aggies love him He's got talent that we can't resist And he doesn't care if Bama is still pissed Johnny Football How they rush him How he scrambles when the pressure's on Then he either runs it in or lets go with a bomb He's a Heisman If there ever was one We know they'll call his name In New York on that day Other players Tell us this is their year But it falls on deaf ears, we'd rather scream and cheer For Johnny Football 'Cause we love him And we know that someday he'll draft high But for right now he's our guy under Texas A&M skies He's a Heisman If there ever was one We know they'll call his name In New York on that day Other players Tell us this is their year But it falls on deaf ears, we'd rather scream and cheer For Johnny Football 'Cause we love him And we know that someday he'll draft high But for right now he's our guy under Texas A&M skies Johnny Football Johnny Football Johnny Football Johnny Football You're a Heisman to be You're a Heisman to be

Toby Keith Parody

This is kind of an oldie, but it might still be funny to those

of you with a third grade sense of humor (like me).

Need To Potty

(Parody of Toby Keith’s “She’s a Hottie”)

We were jammed in traffic on I-59

My four year old was swayin’ side to side, 

Hunched in his booster seat, squeezing his hips

It happens every time we take a trip

Hey mama, think I’ve gotta

Turn loose of all this juice and water

So find a McDonalds or a rest stop, won’t ya dad?

If I don’t get relief this could really get bad

Potty! Need to potty!! Hey listen up everybody! 

The Iron Man on my underpants

‘bout to turn into Aquaman

Potty! Need to potty!! My tummy’s feelin’ oddly

Oh no ­­­mommy mommy, drive fast daddy daddy, ah ah ah ah ahhhhh 

We were sittin’ in church

Preacher reading a verse

My son dropped his crayon, lookin’ kinda sick

Teardrops in his eyes, he whispered “Uh oh”, I was feelin’ like Noah before the big flow, 

It hurts! Gonna squirt!!! 

He’s sweatin’ through his polo shirt

Mama gotta get that boy to the bathroom and don’t be late

Quick before he gets ahold of the offerin’ plate

Potty! Need to potty!! Hey listen up everybody! 

Preacher shook his head at the scene

Choir lady fainted when he screamed

Potty! Need to potty!! My tummy’s feelin’ oddly

Oh no ­­­mommy mommy, move move daddy daddy, ah ah ah ah ahhhhh 

One Friday night, got the boy off to sleep, 

My wife dimmed the lights and kissed me on the cheek, 

We sipped a little wine and it was getting real hot

When the boy came runnin’ in holding his crotch

Potty! Need to potty!! And I’m so scared of the dark mommy! 

Somebody please come take me to go

Before my private place explodes

Potty! Need to potty!! My sheets are kinda spotty

Get up mommy mommy, what’s wrong daddy daddy?, ah ah ah ah ahhhhh 

Whoops.

Waylon Jennings Parody

I wrote this parody lyric back in 2006 and sadly,

it's gotten way more out of hand since then...

Don’t You Think This Redneck Bit Has Done Got Out of Hand

(Parody of Waylon’s “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit has Done Got Out of Hand”)

Verse 1:

I'm for peas and cornbread, and down home honesty

But this song's about the joke some folks have pulled on you and me

Soon as that gal redneck went up to number one

Folks re-found the drawl they’d lost - yeehaw, ain’t this some fun?

Chorus:

Don't you think this redneck bit has done got out of hand

What started out as getting real has turned into a scam

Now everybody’s dipping Skoal and sportin’ farmer’s tans

Don't you think this redneck bit has done got out of hand

Verse 3:

They were singin’ sweet pop music till ol’ Gretchen came along

Then overnight, big pickup trucks and sweet tea filled their songs

Hillbillies, hicks and white trash started skankin’ up the charts

They’re tradin’ in Versace fashion for blue jeans from Walmart

Chorus

Don't you think this redneck bit has done got out of hand

What started out as getting real has turned into a scam

Now everybody’s swiggin’ beer, sayin’ hell yeah and by damn

Don't you think this redneck bit has done got out of hand

©2006 Corey Parkman

Eatin' (Lyric Parody of Eric Church's "Creepin'")

Eatin'

(Parody of Eric Church's "Creepin'")

Like a kitty cat scratchin' on my insides

Feelin' hunger pangs, needin' something fried

From my truck I can smell the meat

Take a run through Burger King

And be eatin', eatin', eatin', eatin',

I pulled outta there with a Whopper and fries

Pants gettin' tight so I unzipped my fly

Since the day you left me baby 

I can feel the lonely, the hungry and lazy

So I'm eatin', eatin', Just a eatin', eatin',

Head to McDonalds, run to Five Guys

Feel Whataburger growin' my thighs

With an empty heart, gotta fill up my belly

Pancakes with molasses and biscuits with jelly

Just a eatin', eatin'

A quarter pound of greasy love

Got ketchup and A-1 flowing through my blood

That Baconator takes over me

Like gravy pouring on some savory beef

Just a eatin', eatin', Just a eatin', eatin',

Head to the Quiznos, Jack in the Box

My Levis Strausses, ridin' my crotch

And you can't forget the Doritos Tacos

Kinda like ranch dressing on top of my nachos

Just a eatin', eatin'

Just last night I saw the light

Of the sign at Bojangles, took a 20 piece ride

Thought I’d find my way out of this weight gain

Only to wind up at Chick-fil-a

Eatin'

Mom, This is the Worst Halloween Ever!

Truck Yeah - Parody Lyric

Sucks Yeah

Got Lil' Wayne in here with a name drop

Stumpin' for the white kids who only like hip-hop

Rich guy actin' like a pop-star

When Borchetta's got your back, the shame don't stop

SEC football, Chevys for long hauls, What else can we sell, y'all?

If you follow the crowd and you've never pulled plows

Then you're the folks I'm singing about

You don't care if this sucks, yeah

As long as I say "truck" yeah

Let's throw our hands up yeah

And if you're all dumb enough, I'll have a smash with a song that sucks yeah

I got money out the butt, yeah

But I don't give a what, yeah

Cause I'll make another million off this song that's so crappy

It sucks, yeah

I party in a club that you could never get in

Made more money than you could spend

But you don't care, do you?

I could holler "screw you!"

As long as this sounds cool, no doubt

Got a mid-life crisis, but DJ's play this

Cause I've been around so long

If you like it real fake, make that donkadonk shake

Long as I get paid, I'm happy to say

You don't care if this sucks, yeah

As long as I say "truck" yeah

Let's throw our hands up yeah

And if you're all dumb enough, I'll have a smash with a song that sucks yeah

I got money out the butt, yeah

But I don't give a what, yeah

Cause I'll make another million off this song that's so crappy

It sucks, yeah

I live in LA, drive a car

I don't go to smoky bars

You don't really mind, as you drink your Bud

Crank this in your pickup in the mud

It's ridiculous

You don't care if this sucks, yeah

As long as I say "truck" yeah

Let's throw our hands up yeah

And if you're all dumb enough, I'll have a smash with a song that sucks yeah

I got money out the butt, yeah

Reach down and grab your nuts, yeah

Cause I'll make another million off this song that's so crappy

My fans are vapid

This sucks, yeah

-----

Truck No

The Ballad of Randy Travis (Parody)

The Ballad of Randy Travis

Sung to the tune of "The Ballad of Jed Clampett."

Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named Ran

Big country star didn't have the best of plans

Late one day he was buying Marlboros,

But you don't have pockets when you don't have clothes

(Butt nekkid, Trans Am, Party time)

Well the next thing you know old Ran's around a tree

Ass in the wind where his pants ought to be

Cop said "Sir, I really think you should come with me"

So they loaded up that drunk who was causing quite a scene

(Obstruction, retaliation, death threats)

Well now it's time to say a prayer for Randy and his woes

We'd like to ask him not to show his junk on the road

And he's invited to a nice rehab facility

Now he has a heaping source for his creativity

(Party like a country star, that's what they're saying now, 

Fake outlaws got nothin' on Randy, ya hear?)

So You Don't Have to Play Me Anymore

So You Don't Have to Play Me Anymore

(Parody of Alan Jackson's "So You Don't Have to Love Me Anymore")

I’ll be the old guy,

I’ll let you pass by,

Just hit fade out,

Cause I'm an old bore

I’ll join AARP,

Eat liver and mincemeat,

So you don’t have to play me anymore.

When you make a playlist,

And my twang ain't on it,

Tell ‘em I'm not good like before,

Just crank some Aldean,

Cause I'm from a tired scene,

So you don’t have to play me anymore.

I will go,

To some nice rest home, and watch Matlock.

Or maybe Jay Leno.

And when you long,

For my old songs,

Play them on the legends show.

If the words I'm singin',

Bout heartache and drinkin',

Make you want to lay down and snore,

You can retire me

To Sansabelt blue jeans,

So you don’t have to play me anymore.

Yeah, I will eat,

Figs and cottage cheese in my rocker.

Yeah, out on some front porch.

So play Luke Bryan,

I've had my time,

I'll go play some shuffleboard.

If you want to come see a show,

I might play a casino,

But you don’t have to play me anymore.

Singin' Bout a Truck (Somethin' Bout a Truck Parody)

Singin' Bout a Truck
(Parody of Kip Moore's "Somethin' Bout a Truck")

Singin' bout a truck always seals the deal
Toss in a girl and a farmer's field
Nobody's gonna question if your motive's real
Singin' bout a truck, it don't take much skill

Tell 'em bout a beer, preferably light
No need to rock the boat, just keep your rhymes tight
Throw in a tailgate, set the scene just right
Singin' bout a beer, no need to think twice

Gotta have a girl ,if you want some success
Put her in cut-offs or a cute sundress
The teen demographic has to be impressed
So sing about a girl and get your wallet blessed

Now there's gotta be some making out for you to score
It should be her first time, she can't be a whore
No kinky stuff now, like handcuffs or back doors
Nothing's more wholesome than a country girl's drawers

Singin' bout a truck seals the deal
And a girl with big breasts in the video just makes sense
Cause CMT can't resist
Something about boots and jeans and familiar scenes
Oh Lord have mercy, I can hear that cha-ching
It's scientific not luck, singin' bout a truck

Somewhere bout the time the sky gets dim
After a few of those beers, country folks show some skin
Skinny dipping' ain't edgy but we can pretend
Somethin' bout a creek makes you more than friends

Singin' bout a truck is the Midas touch
And a girl with a cute butt in the video just makes sense
CMT'll give ya heavy spins
Just write some different words to the same old scenes
Oh Lord have mercy, I can hear that cha-ching
It's scientific not luck, singin' bout a truck
It don't matter if it sucks, singin' bout a truck