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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Trace Adkins
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Randy Houser
Songwriter
Dallas Davidson
Songwriter
Jamey Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dann Huff
Producer
Aaron Walk
Assistant Engineer
Adam Ayan
Mastering Engineer
Christopher Rowe
Editing Engineer
Drew Bollman
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jason Deere
Mixing Engineer
Justin Niebank
Mixing Engineer
Lowell Reynolds
Assistant Engineer
Mark Hagen
Overdub Engineer
Mike Paragone
Assistant Engineer
Richard Dodd
Engineer
Seth Morton
Assistant Engineer
Silvio Richetto
Mixing Engineer
Steve Marcantonio
Engineer
Lyrics
Turn it up some
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
Ohh, she put her beer down
Here she comes, here she comes
Left, left, left right left
Woo
Hustlers shootin' eight ball
Throwin' darts at the wall
Feelin' damn near ten feet tall
Here she comes, Lord help us all
Ol' T.W.'s girlfriend done slapped him out his chair
Poor ole boy, it ain't his fault
It's so hard not to stare
At that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm, make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee, shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There oughta be a law, get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how'd she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
(Aww son)
Now Honey, you can't blame her
For what her mama gave her
It ain't right to hate her
For workin' that money-maker
Band shuts down at two
But we're hangin' out 'til three
We hate to see her go
But love to watch her leave
With that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There oughta 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
(Ooh, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout right there, honey)
We don't care about the drinkin'
Barely listen to the band
Our hands, they start a 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
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee, shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There oughta be a law, get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how'd she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
That honky tonk badonkadonk
Yeah, that honky tonk badonkadonk
(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
(That honky tonk badonkadonk)
Writer(s): Dallas Davidson, Randy Houser, Jamey Johnson
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