Chase Rice - Sorry Momma

It ain't my fault that Lynchburg, Tennessee, makes it taste like that
It goes down smooth and damn it, I want more
And if what Mendocino grows didn't take me higher than the rockies
I wouldn't be lightin' up and knocking on the Devil's door

Wasn't supposed to chew Red Man, wasn't supposed to drink
Wasn't supposed to shut down bars and break good hearts
And sing these songs I sing
Wasn't supposed to get western when the whiskey kicks in
Lord knows I'm to blame
So, I'm sorry, Mama, for the hell you raised

Wasn't supposed to bring her home
'Til I brought her home and got down on one knee
Oh, but here we are waiting on a cab
At half past three on the side of the street
I've lied, I've cheated, I've cussed at Jesus
Every prayer she prays I needed
I hope He knows she damn sure tried
'Cause I know that I

Wasn't supposed to chew Red Man, wasn't supposed to drink
Wasn't supposed to shut down bars and break good hearts
And sing these songs I sing
Wasn't supposed to get western when the whiskey kicks in
Lord knows I'm to blame
So, I'm sorry, Mama, for the hell you raised

You never miss a Sunday service
I never miss a Saturday night

I wasn't supposed to chew Red Man, wasn't supposed to drink
Wasn't supposed to shut down bars and break good hearts
And sing these songs I sing
Wasn't supposed to get western when the whiskey kicks in
Lord knows I'm to blame
So, I'm sorry, Mama, for the hell you raised
Yeah, I'm sorry, Mama, for the hell you raised

(Wasn't supposed to chew Red Man, wasn't supposed to drink)

Written by:
Chase Rice, Hunter Phelps, Benjamin Johnson

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find