Huntin' Land - Dustin Lynch, Riley Green

She’s always counting my beers and she’s cutting me off

She don’t like none of my friends and she’s scared of my dogs

She never wants to party with me on the weekend

She’s always picking fights for no good reason, man

She hates my old lucky boot, always trashing my truck

Telling me what to do, I’m just holding my tongue

And my buddies didn’t understand, till I told 'em y’all

Her daddy’s got hunting land

A couple thousand acres up in Kentucky

And little slice of heaven, out in God’s country

Break her heart, lose the farm

Ain’t a part of my twelve-point plan

So I’ma bite the bullet, hold it together

Try to keep her happy, least till December

If I ain’t I’ll be holding her hand

'Cause her daddy’s got hunting land

Soon as I shook his hand, we were hitting it off

Looking up at the stuff hanging up on his wall

She rolled her eyes, tried to pull me out

But I’s a deer in headlights when he told me about

A couple thousand acres up in Kentucky

And little slice of heaven, out in God’s country

Break her heart, lose the farm

Ain’t a part of my twelve-point plan

So I’ma bite the bullet, hold it together

Try to keep her happy, least till December

If I ain’t I’ll be holding her hand

'Cause her daddy’s got hunting land

I probably should’ve for a hundred reasons

But I gotta make it through on rifle season on that

Couple thousand acres up in Kentucky

And little slice of heaven, out in God’s country

Break her heart, lose the farm

Ain’t a part of my twelve-point plan

So I’ma bite the bullet, hold it together

Try to keep her happy, least till December

If I ain’t I’ll be holding her hand

'Cause her daddy’s got hunting land