Hey, kinda like that banjo.
Crank that stuff up a little.
Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about.

The way she looks, the way she walks;
That southern twang; that dirty talk.
Rides Harley's, reads Vogue.
She got a tattoo on her ankle, rebel flags on her toes.

One shake of that hip could make a puppy dog vicious.
Mmm, hmm, mmm: rebelicious.

She'll take Jack over martinis,
Skinny dippin' over bikinis.
That hard body, soft smile,
Could send a big man to his knees and drive them little boys wild.
She likes them tiny little skirts, an' the way the preacher's boy blushes:
Mmm, mmm: rebelicious.

She's a long tall, shopping-mall,
Barbie-doll trailer park queen.
Mouthwaterin',
'Bout hotter than anything I've ever seen.

Instrumental break.
(Ah,)
(Ooh.)

She's an outlaw livin', ready an' willin',
Sun-tanned redneck, miss hittin'.