There's strange noises round these parts
Tales of zombies too
Haunted cabins, ghostly sights
All sorts of witches brew

We all laugh when we hear stories
Stories that we know aren't true
There's a drink that folks all know
And it ain't called witches brew

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening

moving lights out in the wood
strange visions on the beach
swamp gas, that's what I would say
redneck zombies....that's a reach

tourist folk see things a plenty
they believe all of our tales
like the one about that boy Ahab
going chasing that white whale

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening


if there was such a thing as zombies
wandering round out here
i'd figure it was just my kin folk
after a case or two of beer

zombies like to eat folks brains
and tear them all apart
now to a redneck, that there's work
and rednecks aren't that smart

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening

Every couple 'a years or so
Our family reunites
It takes a couple 'a years or so
To recover from the fights

A family like our'n
Doesn't party like most do
Ours gets a little out of hand
That's why we have so few

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's daisy dukes and forty Lukes
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
There's jugs of moonshine everywhere
And at least a hundred bubbas

There's a smoker fired for the food
the size of two large trucks
It hold 4 cows, and fourteen pigs
And at least a hundred ducks

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's pickled this and pickled that
And things you just can't swallow
That used to live down in the swamp
Way back there in the hollow

There's at least ten shotgun weddings there
And the groom might be rail roaded
But, the wedding isn't legal
If the shotgun isn't loaded

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's greased up pigs and muddy runts
And at least ten bobby sues
and when they all get greased up
You can't tell which is who

There's horseshoe pits for tossing shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them aren't legal
And would get you into court

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

But, it's the way we like it
Drinking shine and acting out
Tossing things that aren't tied down
And wrassling about

There's music there of just one kind
It's country and that matters
Any other sort of sound
Sets the crowd off like mad hatters

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's always someone who's so drunk
And it's normally the preacher
Last year we married him off
To the back up first grade teacher

There's Chevy trucks of every kind
And one covered in sod
Mary Lou showed her tattoo
"Jeff Foxworthy is my God"

It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad when it must end
but, you gotta haul your *** away
When the cops come round that bend

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

"Redneck Family Reunion"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v;=jfHwg22ZqhU

(Verse 1)

A family like ours don't party like most
Ours gets a little out of hand
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
And tearing up all the land
There's jars of moonshine and daisy dukes
Everywhere you look
Ol' Bocephus on the radio
And catfish on every hook

(Chorus)

It's a redneck family reunion
Everybody has a good time
Eatin' all of grandma's cookin'
And drinkin' all of grandpa's shine
You're never gonna go home hungry
If you make it home at all
Yeah, it's a redneck family reunion
And everybody has a ball

(Verse 2)

There's horseshoe pits for tossin' shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them ain't legal
And will land your *** in court
4 wheel trails that will lead you to
Way back in that hollow
Don't you dive head first into that pool
You know it's way to shallow

(Repeat Chorus)

(Bridge)

It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad that it must end
But you know it's time to head on home
When the cops come round the bend

(Repeat Chorus)

When a bigot is caught redneck handed
He is in two minds
Fight or flight
fly away from his bigotry
No I am not racist
Fight for his bogotry
Did you watch birth of nation
What about darwin
**** darwin
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Show her no mercy
Black child
A thousand fold his hammer blow
Has backed you into a corner
Bite like a soweto pitbull
Teeth in
Grab and lock
Then pull
Side to side
As you step back
Letting go only when a chuck of the bigot is off his bone
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Ask him to show you an sos
We sent to his forefathers
Begging for their so called civilazation
Misseducation
Polutted minds
And twisted souls
We were fine without them
Content under african sky
True bohemians
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Go for the jagular
Angle for his ghastly soul
Destroy it
Cause no exorcism will succeed
His hate
Too deep
His crime will remain a crime
For time to come.
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Remind her
She is the real beast.

In west Virginia, they do things different
they don't want to advance too soon
if you don't believe me let me take you
to a west Virginia emergency room

deer hair sutures for stitching you up
then a duct tape bandage on your wound
redneck responses by physicians
doc needs a break to spit in the spittoon

this one is in critical condition
this poor feller has run out of luck
doctor redneck turns to mention
"go get my gun out of my truck"

For all the brave lads who want to keep us free and pure. Whether we like it or not.*

We are the Redneck Militia,
marching here in stride,
white is the only color
in which we'll ever take pride.
If you don't like the color white,
we might gut you like a fish
and fry up your private organs
and eat them from a dish;
or maybe stamp out your brains on the street
and leave you there for dead
or hold you down on the pavement
and slowly run over your head.
For we are the Redneck Militia,
we're as wasted as can be,
if you still don't love the color white
we'll cut off your ***** for free.
And if you still aren't with us
we'll hang you high from a tree,
but if you don't like swinging
then a scalping it will be.
So get off your *** and march with us,
march til we've conquered this land,
if you don't like the blood and the bullets
you can always play in our band.
Just be sure to bang the drum loudly,
keep up with us stride for stride,
for we are the Redneck Militia
and white is the color of pride.

  ~mce

Moonshine drinking
Pork rind eatin
Deer hunting
women chasing
tabacco chewing
Bass fishing
Rebel flag wavin
Pick up truck driving
Redneck!!

I'd like to think that she's thinking:

"How far have I fallen?"

As she sits on the corner of her bed,

Listening to the soft buzz of his battery-powered toothbrush.

I imagine her,

Running her fingers through her clumsy, coagulated hair.

Glancing at her chipped, crimson toe nails,

Then looking to her class ring,

Made entirely of imitation ingredients,

Wondering when is the proper time to trash it.


When she was still a friend of mine,

I never saw her wear make up,

I never saw her show off in tight jeans

or low-cut tees.


But as he spews the toothpaste into the sink,

Skinny jeans lay tussled on the floor,

Next to the side door

that leads to his sister's side room.

The make up she wears

is from the night before.

It's skewed and shows evidence of running,

Like a wasted watercolor.


I'd like to think he isn't that handsome,

And that he's obsessed with Paul Walker.

I'd like to think when he re-enters the room,

He's in grey sweatpants,

He's wearing a black tank top,

With a Confederate flag backdrop,

With two barely dressed babes looking ******

in the foreground.


His hair, unwashed and greasy.

He rubs his belly,

And bears an idiot grin

on his face.

Looking like he just learned how to smile

at this pace.

"Did it feel good?"

feel good.

After he asks, he scans her body,

Beginning at those crimson toes,

And Ending at that clumsy hair.

Every second he scans,

He still wears that drawn-on

Idiot grin.


I'd like to think at this point she thinks of me.

Of my warnings and prophesy.

Her eyes start at the chipped toe nails,

Course over her tanning bed-inspired legs.

And finally reach the only thing she has on,

A t-shirt that belongs to his sister.

A t-shirt, when given by him,

It was mentioned, "thanks, mister".


Though she didn't satisfy all his redneck intentions,

During last night's expedition.

He still paid her back with a morning

one-sided session.

"It felt good" she says.

In reference to the ten minute *******,

When her body was strummed and plucked,

Underneath his sister's Terri Clark T-shirt.


As she sits in the filth and the ****** fallout,

On a bed that is six days *****,

While he is grinning,

Being everything but wordy.

I'd like to think she's thinking:

"How far have I fallen?"

Our family got the news today
Our bubba's gettin' hitched
Young Daisy Mae, she's near fourteen
Got our boy bewitched
He's sayin' that he loves her
He's making her his bride
She's the first to get him this close
Though not too many tried

We've got to get things ready
Send invitations and make candles
We've got to get the good jars out
The one's that still have handles
The minister is on alert
We've got to make some shine
Grandpa says he'll make some up
But, it will not all be mine

Gonna have a wedding, a real old fashioned bash
With all sorts of kissin cousins drinkin from their secret stash
The food will be impressive, there'll be turkey, pig and cow
The family won't get bigger, since we're related anyhow

This time there'll be no shotgun
Like the last time for old Ben
This time the guns are empty
Not the way they were back then
The banjos will be tuned up
There'll be music in the air
The cops won't try to stop it
I think most will all be there

The ladies will be planning
Just how to serve up all the grub
While Bubba has to find a suit
And therein lies the rub
He's never worn a suit at all
Not even for a day
He's only dressed in coveralls
And that's how he's gonna stay

Gonna have a wedding, a real old fashioned bash
With all sorts of kissin cousins drinkin from their secret stash
The food will be impressive, there'll be turkey, pig and cow
The family won't get bigger, since we're related anyhow


It'll be a **** dang doodle
A hell of a good time
It'll only be completed
When they run out of the shine
there'll be singing and some dancing
Underneath the harvest moon
We can't wait for it to happen
It cannot come too soon

There'll be readings from the bible
Which the minister will read
And as good holy Christians
Everyone will heed
There's sure to be some fighting
Before the couple say "I do"
I mean, they are both cousins
I'm gonna go...aren't you?

Gonna have a wedding, a real old fashioned bash
With all sorts of kissin cousins drinkin from their secret stash
The food will be impressive, there'll be turkey, pig and cow
The family won't get bigger, since we're related anyhow

Hey girl where you going?
I’m very much a talker
Cos I can’t dance good
And I never been a stalker
Where you off to my l’il lady?
Hop in my left seat for a ride
Wind it up or slow it right down –
I can get you to the other side
I’m just a country boy
And I can take you up city streets, country roads
Just a poor l’il redneck
But I’m sure I can get you to where you want to go
I got a full tank of gas
I got an all-terrain SUV
You sure do look good
Buckled up next to me
I can take you up the fast lane
I can drive you round the cones
I can take you slow through the forests
I can take you fast through 30 zones
I got air conditioning in here
Chamois leather seats as soft as babys butts
I can take you across the smooth asphalt
I can take you through the deep ruts
Putting on my aviators
Just let me know if we’re getting close
We can slip on out
Or we can take the main roads.
Just listen to the music
And i can listen to you if you like
I can rev the V8 and take you there
Be it day or be it night
I got fully automated
And a nice little gear change
I got super beam headlights
With a three hundred foot range
I can go on the straight and narrow
I can take you down winding roads
Nothing’s a problem for us; we know where we come from
And I can get you where you need to go


Yeah, I don’t dance so good
But I’m a country boy,
A nice little country boy.