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Yee yee! We've found 16 lyrics, 34 artists, and 50 albums matching copperhead road.

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up the holler with everything he had
It's before my time but I've been told
He never came back from Copperhead Road

Now Daddy ran the whiskey in
up the holler with everything he had
'Fore my time but I've been told
He never come back from Copperhead Road

Now Daddy ran whiskey in a big block
up the holler with everything he had
'Fore my time but I've been told
He never come back from Copperhead Road

Now Daddy ran whiskey in a big block
we grew up on
Some fishing in the dark, some Copperhead Road
Everybody just sing along

And we're gonna drink a little beer, play a little music
the hell I raised on these Cheatham County lanes, left some 'Church on every street
Every field, every road, every copperhead in Copperhead Creek
Shoulda
a midnight rodeo
The way them saloon doors swing, when they line dance to "Copperhead Road"
Some like the lager down here, that'll make you feel the way all
you know we were raised on the radio

It's why we drink too much on Friday nights
Raise our hand in the neon lights
Copperhead Road and Mamma tried
they'll be a bonfire 
Just like the waves, we go with the flow
There's a country boy playing on his guitar
Everybody singin to Copperhead Road
Sun's gonna
LIFE TRYNA GET THIS BUZZ BACK

	CHORUS 

GIRL YOU KEEP ME RUNNING DOWN COPPERHEAD ROAD	
FOR A TASTE OF HUNDRED PROOF
GIRL YOU GOT ME WAKING UP, HEAD HALF
And I wish even cars had truck beds
And every road was named Copperhead
And coolers never run out of cold Bud Light
And I wish high school home teams
It flows underneath the 32 bridge,
And cuts through the heart of South Georgia
Big copperheads and mean wild pigs,
And gators in the weeds waitin'
country girl what I got to give
My whole heap and hep of country fun,
Full of four wheel drive, dirt road and shotgun
Ain't nothing better than being out in
your mind right
Whoa no, whoa no
Good Lord, lift this heavy load
Maybe I'm going down a wrong road
Oh no, no, no

Hallelujah and praise the man
He used to handle snakes in Church
Perfect hair and a starched white shirt
Now he's got a hold of something
He can't drop like a copperhead
There's
Louisiana road
Sweeter than a taste of homemade wine and hotter 
Than Tobasco

Tearin' up the retreads right foot full of lead
Ain't slowin' down for
So you think you've got some county line cred
'Cause you rode a dirt road or two
You got a mossy oak hat on top of your head
And a southern pride

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