Lyrics

Muddy boots, mason jars, whiskey burnin' my throat,
Devil's backbone highway where the real ones wrote.
Granddaddy's shotgun, moonshine still runnin' hot,
System tried to break us but we forgot to stop.

Concrete jungle crumblin', city boys soft as silk,
While we bleed gasoline and our veins pump buttermilk.
Courthouse corruption, badges bought and sold,
But backwoods justice got a story to be told.

[Chorus]
We the thunder in the pines, lightning in the storm,
Born to raise hell since the day we was born.
They can't cage the wildfire, can't silence our roar,
We the last real outlaws knockin' down their door.

[Verse 2]
Swamp rat royalty, gator skin tough as nails,
Federal boys chasin' but we know these trails.
Bloodhound loyalty, kin thicker than thieves,
Corporate puppets dancin' while the people believe.

Backwater baptism in the muddy creek flow,
Preacher man Sunday, devil Monday we know.
They preach about change while their pockets get fat,
But southern justice comin' like a Louisville bat.

[Chorus]
We the thunder in the pines, lightning in the storm,
Born to raise hell since the day we was born.
They can't cage the wildfire, can't silence our roar,
We the last real outlaws knockin' down their door.

[Bridge]
When the smoke clears and the dust settles down,
We'll still be standin' on this hallowed ground.
From the holler to the highway, marsh to the mill,
Southern rebellion runnin' through us still.