Fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty
When you came rolling round, loud and proud
With your boys talking about all that city slang
Act like we don’t know a thing
Just like we’re some backwards rejects, barely write a bad check
Bass fishin', cousin kissin', nothing but a bunch of rednecks
I’m about to let you know, son, we was raised on them shotguns
Ain't none of us ever gonna back down, we’re proud of bein' small town
Better listen to me close, before you keep runnin' that lip
‘Cause there’s a fifty-fifty chance that you might get your ass whipped
Fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty
Let me tell you how it’s going down, all up in here
Everybody know just who you is, momma, daddy and your kids
Seen you at the Walmart, caught you over about the Dairy Queen
Called your wife about an hour ago, said you was at the bar with Jolene
Now you’re talking crazy talk son, drunk as hell, hardly walk, son
Tellin' us you the big cheese, momma gonna knock you to your knees
If you go home and tell that country girl that bullshit
There’s a fifty-fifty chance that you might get your ass whipped
Fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, yeah, fifty-fifty
Fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, fifty-fifty, yeah, fifty-fifty
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