(Don't act like ya'll didn't know this wasn't comin')
Alright
[Verse 1]
You know Tommy gonna trick his truck, jack it up big time,
lift kit, chrome tips, spit shinin like a diamond.
Game changed and the rain came and we took it down a back road.
Georgia clay mudhole, that's how these boys roll
Now it's late night underneath the moonlight.
Errybody's feelin right, sippin on a bud light.
Go on drop yo tailgate, turn up your radio.
Imma build a bonfire, you can make yourself at home
Kick back, relax, you know we're just a bunch o' hillbillies
Tip back a cup a' Jack and throw your hands up with me.
[Chorus]
Hey, we might look a little crazy tonight, hey baby that's alright,
It's our backwoods, boondocks roots, it's just what we do.
It's just what we do.
Hey, ain't no way to make this up, when it's runnin through your blood,
There ain't no hidin the truth, its just what we do.
It's just what we do.
Yeah, it's just what we do
[Verse 2]
You see Tommy called Jenny and Jenny gon call the hotties to tell em bout the party,
So don't forget the Bacardi.
Time to get your buzz on and your love on, all night long,
And if you play your hand right, you won't have to go home alone.
Six string pickin, solo cup sippin, and when the moments right,
Grab yo phone and get them digits,
Crankin that Bocephus, we all good with Jesus.
Come Sunday morning that preacher, he bout to preach it
Kick back, relax and pass the good time moonshine.
Who brought the party? Damn, that was Florida Georgia Line.
[Chorus x3]
Hey, we might look a little crazy tonight, hey baby that's alright,
It's our backwoods, boondocks roots, it's just what we do.
It's just what we do.
Hey, ain't no way to make this up, when it's runnin through your blood,
There ain't no hidin the truth, its just what we do.
It's just what we do.
Yeah, it's just what we do.
compositores: Brian Kelley, Rodney Clawson, Tyler Hubbard
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