00:00Clock struck five on a Friday grind, left the boss man and his noise behind.
00:07Loaded up 40 pounds of hickory oak, by noon tomorrow we'll be breathing smoke.
00:15Got a cooler full of silver cans, ice down tight, call the whole damn crew, we're going all damn night.
00:23Mama's brought the sweet tea, boy's brought the fire, kicking up dust till the flames go higher.
00:31You ain't got a plate, then grab a lawn chair, ain't a single soul worried about a single care.
00:39Cause we got smoke on the pit, and ice in the bucket, work we stand, and the boy said chuck
00:47it.
00:47Pass the frisbee down, pour a double shot of rye, we're going to laugh and holler till the sun hits
00:54the sky.
00:55Yeah, y'all come on over, pour your boots in the grass, nothing beats me, can be a cold glass.
01:03Hotel gate down, acting like a table bench, Hank's got the tongs, I'm wiping off the wrench.
01:11Ribs falling off the bone, sauce on my sleeve, this is the kind of heaven where we never want to
01:18leave.
01:19Got six strings picking by the pit fire light, Lord knows the work day never felt so right.
01:27Cause we got smoke on the pit, and ice in the bucket, work we stand, and the boy said chuck
01:35it.
01:35Pass the frisbee down, pour a double shot of rye, we're going to laugh and holler till the sun hits
01:42the sky.
01:43Yeah, y'all come on over, pour your boots in the grass, nothing beats me, can be a cold glass.
01:51They say the good life's hard to find these days, lost in the hustle and the city haze.
01:59But you give me good brothers, charcoal and beer, and the best damn party of the whole damn year.
02:10Cause we got smoke on the pit, and ice in the bucket, work we stand, and the boy said chuck
02:17it.
02:17Pass the frisbee down, pour a double shot of rye, till the sun hits the sky.
02:23Yeah, y'all come on over, throw your boots in the grass, nothing beats me, can be a cold glass.
02:33Pass me another rye, brother.
02:36Smoke on the pit, and ice in the cooler.
