Honky Tonk Badonkadonk - Edit Version

Turn it up son

Alright boys, this is her favorite song, you know that, right?

So if we play it good and loud she might get up and dance again

Aw she's pretty good now

Here she comes, here she comes

Left, left, left-right-left

Hustlers shootin' eight ball

Throwin' darts at the walls

Feeling damn near 10 feet tall

Here she comes Lord help us all

Old TW's girlfriend done slapped him out his chair

Poor old boy it ain't his fault it's so hard not to stare at that

Honky tonk badonkadonk

Keepin' perfect rhythm make you want to swing along

Got it goin' on like Donkey Kong

And ooo well shut my mouth, slap your grandma

There ought to be a law, get the sheriff on the phone

Lord have mercy how'd she even get them britches on

With that honky tonk badonkadonk, aw son

Now honey you can't blame her for what her mama gave her

It ain't right to hate her for working that moneymaker

Band shuts down at two but we're hanging out 'til three

We hate to see her go but love to watch her leave with that

Oh that's what I'm talkin' 'bout right there

We don't care about the drinkin', barely listen to band

Our hands they start to shakin' when she gets the urge to dance

Drivin' everybody crazy you think you fell in love

Boys you better keep your distance, you can look but you can't touch

That honky tonk badonkadonk

That's it right there boys

That's why we do what we do

It ain't for the money, it ain't for the glory

It ain't for the free whiskey

It's for the badonkadonk