Lyrics Jamey Johnson

The way she looks, the way she walks;
That southern twang, that dirty talk.
Rides Harleys, 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.
'Bout hotter than anything I've ever seen.

She's an outlaw livin', ready an' willin',
Sun-tanned redneck, Paris Hilton.

You got a mansion, you drive a vet.
You wear a Rolex, hell she ain't impressed.
She like deer stands, beer cans,
Baits her own hook when she fishes
Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm... rebelicious.

Oh, that's what I'm talkin 'bout man.
Cheap sunglasses, a pick-up truck, convertible.
What is that thing? A sixty-nine?
Mmm, not a tan line on anything I can see
Hey, I bet you she knows David Allen Coe.