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Strap them kids in |
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Give 'em a little bit of vodka in a cherry coke |
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We're going to Oklahoma to the family reunion for the first time in years |
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It's up at uncle Slayton's cause he's getting on in years |
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You know he no longer travels but he's still pretty spry |
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He's not much on talking and he's just too mean to die |
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And they'll be comin' down from Kansas |
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And from west Arkansas |
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It'll be one great big old party like you never saw |
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Uncle Slayton's got his Texan pride |
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Back in the thickets with his Asian bride |
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He's got a Airstream trailer and a Holstein cow |
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He still makes whiskey 'cause he still knows how |
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He plats that Choctaw bingo every Friday night |
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You know he had to leave Texas but he won't say why |
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He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufala |
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Caught a great big ol' blue cat on a driftin' jug line |
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Sells his hardwood timber to the shipping mill |
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Cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell |
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He cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell |
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You know he likes his money he don't mind the smell |
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My cousin Roscoe Slayton's oldest boy from his second marriage up in Illinois |
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He was raised in East St. Louis by his momma's people |
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Where they do things different |
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Thought he'd just come on down |
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He was going to Dallas Texas in a semi truck called from that big McDonald's |
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You know the one they built up on that great big ol' bridge |
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Across the Will Rogers Turnpike |
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Took the Big Cabin exit stopped and bought a couple of cartons of cigarettes |
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At that Indian Smoke Shop with the big neon smoke rings |
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In the Cherokee Nation hit Muskogee late that night |
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Somebody ran a stoplight at the Shawnee Bypass |
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Roscoe tried to miss 'em but he didn't quite |
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Bob and Mae come up from little town |
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Way down by lake Texoma where he coaches football |
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They were two A champions now for two years running |
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But he says they won't be this year no they won't be this year |
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And he stopped off in Tushka at that "Pop's Knife and Gun" place |
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Bought a SKS rifle and a couple a full cases of that steel core ammo |
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With the berdan primers from some East bloc nation that no longer needs 'em |
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And a Desert Eagle that's one great big ol' pistol |
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And some surplus tracers for that old BAR of Slayton's |
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Soon as it gets dark we're gonna have us a time |
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We're gonna have us a time |
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Ruth Ann and Lynn come down from Baxter Springs |
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That's one hell raisin' town way up in Southeastern Kansas |
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Got a biker bar next to the lingerie store |
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That's got them Rolling Stones lips up there where everyone can see 'em |
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And they burn all night you know they burn all night you know they burn all night |
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Ruth Ann and Lynn they wear them cut off britches and those skinny little halters |
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And they're second cousins to me |
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Man I don't care I want to get between 'em |
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With a great big ol' hard on like a old bois d' arc fence post |
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You could hang a pipe rail gait from |
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Do some twisted sisters 'til the cows come home |
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And we'd be havin' us a time |
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Uncle Slayton's got his Texan pride |
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Back in the thickets with his Asian bride |
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He's cut that corner pasture into acre lots' |
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He sells 'em owner financed |
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Strictly to them that's got no kind of credit 'Cause he knows they're slackers |
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When they miss that payment |
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Then he takes it back |
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He plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night |
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Drinks that Johnny Walker at that Club 69 |
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We're gonna strap them kids in give 'em a little bit o' Benadryl |
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And a cherry coke we're goin' to Oklahoma Gonna have us a time |
