Search results for we like to hunt by colt ford

We've found 535 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching we like to hunt by colt ford:


Albums:

Answer to No One: The Colt Ford Classics (Colt Ford) · A Colt .45 Christmas (Afroman) · The Music from Jackie's Joke Hunt (Jackie Martling) · Christ Hunt (God Dethroned) · Hunt You Down (JT Hodges) · The Trials of Darryl Hunt (Hutchinson, Hutch) · The Hunt for Red October [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] (Basil Poledouris) · Van Hunt (Van Hunt) · Which Hunt (Jim Gerardi) · The Wild Hunt (The Tallest Man on Earth) – and 90 other albums »


Through The Country', let's go John

Down the road where the black top ends
You can find Colt Ford with all his friends
We're used to gravel roads,
Down the road where the black top ends, 
You can find Colt Ford with all his friends, 
We're used to gravel roads, and fishin' with cane poles,
We cut 'em all Jack, if it flies it dies
We cut 'em all Jack, country's how we live our lives

They call me Colt Ford
A redneck boy from down in
We like to fish fight hunt and play in the mud
We work our fingers till they bleed, till the job is done
Then drink them cold Coors lights till
yee-haw and then we saddle up

You thought your boy Colt Ford was just a country clown
That bails hay all day and don't know how to get down
Ain't none
folks earn it
Plow it, haul it, hunt it, shoot it, skin it, fry it,
That's how we do it.
Sip it, chug it, jar it, jug it
Do it a little better than anyone
the liquor to myself
Got a little wealth so I gotta thank the Lord,
Couldn't do it by myself, got some help from Colt Ford
Now we in a Ford, and we travel
In the good ol' USA I'm proud to say
We got brand new action
Good old fashion, too
And the future's so bright
Like stars in the night
Just
Slam!

Can't touch this, we rule it with a clenched fist,
On, top fuel with a death grip
Judged, by a weak little man with a pen in his hand
Slam!

Can't touch this, we rule it with a clenched fist,
On, top fuel with a death grip
Judged, by a weak little man with a pen in his hand
had a pretty good life
      As an old blue Ford

The original engine
Still runs like a colt--
Although it's lost some compression,
And it's
The enigma lies broken
Searching for those precious moments
Reaching for a higher of existence
Like a newborn migrant in the void

I am smitten by
10 and 2 on her hips and let that thang collide.

It’s getting real, really hot here, ass, tits is bouncing and we like cold beer
Switch it back up,
To 'phatness' like this 
 
From one story the cowboy was founded 
I'm surrounded by Casual, and Whitey Ford, the whole world and your girl 

From the Bay
the nerve an he had the blood
And there never was a hoss like the Tennessee Stud

We drifted on down
Into no man's land
We crossed the river
Called the Rio
to stirrup and side by side
We crossed the mountains and the valleys wide
We came to Big Muddy and we forded the flood
On the Tennessee mare and the Tennessee
They jumped their nags with a whoop and a yell 
And away we rode like a bat out of Hell 

I circled their camp for a time or two 
Just to show what
She was sitting crossed legged on a hood of a ford
Filing down her nails with a emory board
Talking to her friends about people they knew
And all
standing still
Promises don’t mean a thing
Like a hunt without the kill

Do we ever take the time
To see what comes and what goes by?
Do we ever stop to see
luck
Said don't you know all those little brown-eyed girls
Want playboys of the southwestern world

And I say we had a little change in plans
Like
She was sitting crossed legged on a hood of a ford
Filing down her nails with a emery board
Talking to her friends about people they knew
guess
Is the way we measure a man's success
By the kind of automobile he can afford to buy
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Right turn,
sings "Swing Low"
At the church in the choir, Sunday dinners on the fire
Colt Ford Danny Boone gettin' mud up on the tires

We represent our folk but
on the tailgate
Been doin' this for some years, y'all so late (so late!)
Bangin' OutKast and a little George Strait
Hot damn, Colt Ford back with Bubba K

Country
night I get to play music
For the greatest fans in the whole wide world
And I'm a keep on doin' what Colt Ford does
Cause that's all I know how to do