Redneck Rules
Howdy, gals. Gretchen Wilson here. Back before I was Redneck Woman No. 1, I was livin’ in Pocahontas, Illinois, just tryin’ to pay the bills and find myself a good man. A friend gave me that datin’ guide, The Rules. If you ask me, that book ain’t never gonna snare you no man. These here are the redneck rules, taken from the words of my songs. Hell, yeah! Now go get out the trailer, and go get ’em, girls!
Rule 4: If yer heart’s achin’ over some jackass who knocked you up, Budweiser is a cure-all. It’ll leave you one Bud wiser and get you in the right mood to find yer kid a new daddy.
Rule 9: There’s nothin’ wrong with the Bible and sure as hell ain’t nothin’ wrong with a sinner who finally believes. Especially if he’s still up for sinnin’ with you — hell, yeah! God might be politically uncorrect these days, but a man who don’t believe ain’t worth his Silverado.
Rule 17: Look for the Skoal ring, sisters. If he ain’t got one, he’s not for you. If he does, let him buy you a drink. It won’t be long before he’s makin’ the trailer payments, too. Hell, yeah!
Rule 24: Men like a chick who drinks beer all night, plain and simple. Besides, who can swig that sweet champagne?
Rule 27: Wear yer jeans just a li’l tight, if you know what I mean. Boys come undone when they see a seam ridin’ up yer ass. Hell, yeah!
Rule 33: Victoria’s Secret, well their stuff’s real nice, and that’s why you should let yer man buy it for you. But you can buy the same damn thing at Wal-Mart half-price.
Rule 35: Keep in mind, I’m an eight-ball-shootin’, double-fisted-drinkin’ son of a gun, but I find guys like it real nice when you get a little crazy just because you can. Mud-boggin’ topless always does the trick for me.
Rule 41: Men like redneck women, so ignore the folks who look down at you for standin’ in yer own front yard with a baby on yer hip ’cause yer man spent the grocery money on a fifth of Jack and a case of Marlboro Reds, even though he damn well knows you only smoke menthols. Hell, yeah!
