New York City, you`re so big and tough, Well here we come, baby, struttin` our stuff. Well we look kinda freaky we`re pretty damn bad. Cause Southern cookin` is all we`ve ever had. Oh, cook `em up some greens, baby.
I`ve seen the mountains up in Tennessee. Sweet little hill women satisfied me. We all know it`s tough and it`s an uphill battle. But we`re running `em hard baby, sitting in the saddle. Oh, come on baby.
New York City you`re so big and tough. My pistols are loaded, I feel rough. Well. we`ve heard of your punks and high heeled steppers. We`re bad southern boys and don`t you forget us.
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