Gas going up, market going down
Crime is higher than Willy in them big towns
They keep their front door locked
Armed with a camera
Ours is wide ass open, with a thumb on a hammer
We don't want no fight
Ain't gonna call 911
We got a God given right
We gonna stick to our guns
And gonna raise our babies to be troubadours
On Kings James and a 44
We're from a long line of long arms in the rack
So till Jesus comes back
Us American daughters and American sons
Were gonna fly that flag
And stick to our guns
We let em lay a little black top on our dirt roads
Where the quail and the white tail and we call home
But if them white collar dogs come barkin up a tree
That we're sitting in, wanting our peace
God bless their souls
Hope they know father and son
We might let little bucks go
Oh but we stick to our guns
And gonna raise our babies to be troubadours
On Kings James and a 44
We're from a long line of long arms in the rack
So till Jesus comes back
Us American daughters and American sons
Were gonna fly that flag
And stick to our guns
Yeah we're gonna stick to our guns
When they bury me down
Six feet in the ground
Stick a pistol in my boot
With a couple hundred rounds
Just incase some bigwig digs me up
And it ain't the holy ghost, the father or his son
Haha
We're gonna raise our babies to be troubadours
On Kings James and a 44
We're from a long line of long arms in the rack
So till Jesus comes back
Us American daughters and American sons
Were gonna fly that flag
And stick to our guns
Yeah we're gonna stick to our guns
Try to take 'em and see what happens
