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• Artiste: Chase Rice
• Titre: Sorry Momma
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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, Momma, 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, Momma, for the hell you raised You never miss a Sunday service I never miss a Saturday night 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, Momma, for the hell you raised Yeah I'm sorry, Momma, for the hell you raised