Kid Rock – The Nashville I Know (Guitar)

A   A              A           Bm      Bm
    There's a line at the door full of underage whores

G               D           A
And the bouncer lets 'em on by

A               A          Bm              Bm
There's some clown from LA who's trying to sing Hank

G              D            A
But it sounds more like bad Barney Fife

A                    A          Bm          Bm
And the bar's filled with dudes raised with silver spoons

G        D           A
Hanging out of their mouths

A                     A        Bm        Bm
And the girls are all bitches just digging for gold

G                G                E
Trying to get my dumb poor ass to buy them a round

D                                 A
And they're all drinking Michelob ULTRAs

    F#m                        D
And they make me just wanna go home

D                                     A
And things don't look the way they're supposed to

F#m       B              E           A
    Baby, this ain't the Nashville I know

A              A                  Bm          Bm
Some dude gave a high-five to his buddy's new highlights

G              D                A
"I swear, bro, I can't see your roots"

A                A                  Bm          Bm
And they're both scared to dance 'cause some fucktard in France

G             D                A
Designed their new lizard-skin boots

A              A              Bm          Bm
And the girls think it's cool when the guys act like tools

G               D                      A
And pick fights with guys smaller than they are

A             A
I wish they'd start shit with me

Bm            Bm
I'd knock out their whitened teeth

G            G               E
And piss on their Hollywood sports car

D                                 A
And they're all drinking Michelob ULTRAs

    F#m                        D
And they make me just wanna go home

D                                     A
And things don't look the way they're supposed to

F#m       B              E           A
    Honey, this ain't the Nashville I know

    F#m           F#m        A
I'm sick of these pop stars pretending

    E            A
Somebody must've forgot to mention

A          F#m                     B
To bring a chain for my wallet and gel for my hair

        E         E         E
On the way to the douchebag convention

Bm      Bm  Bm
   Shit

N.C.          A            A          Bm          Bm
And you could bet your ass I won't be leaving

       G              D           A
I just hope that I'll witness the end

A                A                  Bm          Bm
Of these jerk-offs and metros and debutante skanks

            G           D           A
And get the Nashville I know back again