You damn right, it's Friday night.
Grab the Busch and the Bud Light.
Meet me in the pasture back in the pines.

We in the spot that the cops can't find.
Turn up the Jones, turn up the Jaw.
Fire up a smoke, grab that old guitar.

We're just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild.
It's goin' down field party style.


Rippin' up them dirt roads, stirrin' up them cattle.
Show you where to make shine at as long as y'all don't tattle.
Got big kegs and chub beers, party around that bonfire,

Horseshoes and corn hoe, roped off with barbed wire.
Bad broads with tanned legs, raised up on cornbread.
Dancin' with them daisy dukes, all they do is turn heads.

Rebel red bikini tops, man you know you want it.
They drinkin' on that hunch punch, 'fore long they start to flaunt it.
So crank up them eighteens as loud as they can get.

Bout thirty miles from anything, the law ain't hearin' %#@!.
Y'all get drunk and show out, cut loose and go out.
Here it's goin' down, down field party style.


You damn right, it's Friday night.
Grab the Busch and the Bud Light.

Meet me in the pasture back in the pines.
We in the spot that the cops can't find.
Turn up the Jones, turn up the Jaw.

Fire up a smoke, grab that old guitar.
We're just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild.
It's goin' down field party style.


Let's get it crunk and do it right, we gon' crank it all night.
Tell your mom and old man, they can bring the whole nine.

We got them tailgates down and the shots goin' round.
Hit 'em up and get em up and tell this whole damn town.
We got the bonfire blowin', the crowd is steady growin',

Five thousand plus will be here before you know it.
Got the grilled fired up, cookin' every kind of meat.
We got the freaks in bikinis headed down to the creek.

We got Harley's over here, mud trucks over there,
Red necks and hillbilly's bout every damn where.
Come one, come all, that's how we do it in the south.

All we need is a field and we'll turn the party out.

You damn right, it's Friday night.

Grab the Busch and the Bud Light.
Meet me in the pasture back in the pines.
We in the spot that the cops can't find.

Turn up the Jones, turn up the Jaw.
Fire up a smoke, grab that old guitar.
We're just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild.

It's goin' down field party style.

It's goin' down, field party style.

It's goin' down, it's goin' down, field party style.

You damn right, it's Friday night.

Grab the Busch and the Bud Light.
Meet me in the pasture back in the pines.
We in the spot that the cops can't find.

Turn up the Jones, turn up the Jaw.
Fire up a smoke, grab that old guitar.
We're just some good ole boys and girls about to get wild.

It's goin' down field party style.

It's goin' down, it's goin' down.

It's goin' down, it's goin' down.