Huntin' Land

Dustin LynchDustin Lynch 

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Dustin Lynch

Dustin Lynch (born May 14, 1985) is an American country music singer and songwriter. more »

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She's always counting my beers, then she's cutting me off
She don't like none of my friends and she's scared of my dog
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 boots, always trashing my truck
Telling me what to do, I'm just holding my tongue
Man my buddies didn't understand, 'til I told 'em y'all
Her daddy's got hunting land

A couple thousand acres up in Kentucky
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 'til December
If I ain't in the stand 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 studs hanging up on his wall
She rolled her eyes, tried to pull me out
But I's a deer in the headlights when he told me about

A couple thousand acres up in Kentucky
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 'til December
If I ain't in the stand I'll be holding her hand
'Cause her daddy's got hunting land

I probably shoulda cut bait for a hundred reasons
But I gotta make it through one rifle season on that

Couple thousand acres up in Kentucky
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 'til December
If I ain't in the stand I'll be holding her hand
'Cause her daddy's got hunting land

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