I'm American-made:
Bud Light, Chevrolet.
My momma taught me wrong from right.

I was born in the South.
Sometimes I have a big mouth
When I see something that I don't like.

I gotta say it.

Well, we've been driving this road
For a mighty long time,
Paying no mind to the signs.

Well, this neighborhood's changed.
It's all been re-arranged.
We left that dream somewhere behind.

Slow down. You're gonna crash.
Baby, you're a-screaming. It's a blast, blast, blast.
Look out! Babe, you've got your blinders on.
Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.
Real gone.
Real gone.

But there's a new cat in town.
He's got high-paid friends,
Thinks he's gonna change history.

You think you know him so well.
Yeah, you think he's so swell,
But he's just perpetuating prophecy.

Come on now.

Slow down. You're gonna crash.
Baby, you're a-screaming. It's a blast, blast, blast.
Look out! You've got your blinders on.
Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.

Real gone.
Real gone.
Real gone.
Uh.

Well, you can say what you want,
But you can't say it 'round here,
'Cause they'll catch you and give you a whipping.

Well, I believe I was right,
When I said you were wrong.
You didn't like the sound of that.

Now, did you?

Slow down. You're gonna crash,
Baby, you're a-screaming. It's a blast, blast, blast.
Look out! You've got your blinders on.
Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.

Well, here I come, and I'm so not scared.
Got my pedal to the metal, got my hands in the air.
Look out! You take your blinders off.
Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone.

Real gone.
Real gone.
Ooh.

Real gone.
Real gone.