

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Clock hits five, throw the toolbox down Dust cloud chasing my tailgate out of town Cooler in the bed, jars clinking in a crate Gravel in my teeth, can’t wait, can’t wait [Chorus] We get drunk on that backwoods moonshine Mason jars up, yeah, we’re feelin’ just fine (oh yeah) Mud on the tires, let the roosters fly Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night Loud mouths laughing, stars for a neon sign Heartbeats racing that county line If you ain’t here, then you ain’t doing it right Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night [Verse 2] Side-by-sides lined on the old creek bank Engines growl low like a thunder tank Buddy’s got cans on a fence post row Smoke from the barrel and a “watch this” show (hey!) [Chorus] We get drunk on that backwoods moonshine Mason jars up, yeah, we’re feelin’ just fine Mud on the tires, let the roosters fly Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night Bonfire blazing, boots in the firelight Shot shells rattling in the tailgate light If you ain’t here, then you ain’t doing it right Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night [Bridge] Barefoot dancing in a puddle of clay Somebody yells “race” and we’re sideways Headlights spinning, my head’s spinning too That jar and you got me seeing two [Chorus] We get drunk on that backwoods moonshine Mason jars up, yeah, we’re feelin’ just fine Mud on the tires, let the roosters fly Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night Last jar empty, still holding on tight Arms ‘round friends in the smoke and the moonlight If you ain’t here, then you ain’t doing it right Living like a hillbilly on a Friday night (Friday night)
Tags
country, Rowdy modern country with crunchy Telecaster riffs, stomping kick, and singalong barroom chorus; verses keep a tight backbeat with twangy banjo fills, chorus explodes with stacked male vocals, big crowd “whoa”s, and fiddle runs; bridge drops to half-time with tom-heavy drums then slams back into a final, shout-it-til-you’re-hoarse hook
2:59
No
3/16/2026