[Verse 1]

Down at Cooter Lee’s Diner on a Saturday night,

Where the coffee’s like tar and the gossip’s a fright,

Old Earl leans back, tips his hat with a grin,

Says, “You gained a few pounds since I saw you again.”

No malice in his voice, no sugar to coat,

The kind of truth you won’t see in a Hallmark note.

[Chorus]

Oh, it’s that redneck truth serum, as sharp as a knife,

Cuts through the nonsense, cleans out your life.

They’ll tell you your truck’s ugly, your dog smells like phew,

But you always know where you stand when they’re talking to you.

[Verse 2]

Aunt Tiny Sue throws out barbs without a decision,

“Your wife’s pants are so tight I can see her religion.

Uncle Joe doesn’t flinch during the Tiny Sue show,

“She thinks the sun comes up just to hear her crow?”

Being blunt is printed in their family creed,

Like moonshine for the soul, the kind of honesty you need.

[Chorus]

It’s that redneck truth serum, no sugar, no cream,

Just a shot of the real world, not some silly dream.

From your crooked fence to your out-of-tune strings,

They’ll roast you to ashes then call you a king.

[Bridge]

They’ll say, “You’re as dumb as a box of rocks,”

Then hand you a beer and a new pair of socks.

A compliment’s rare, but when it comes, you’ll glow,

Because you’ll know it’s real and not for show.

[Chorus]

It’s that redneck truth serum, sharp as a blade,

The kind of straight talk that won’t ever fade.

Don’t pee down their backs and tell them it’s raining,

Their clothes ain’t shrinking, it’s wisdom they’re gaining.

[Verse 3]

Well I visited them once to experience their rife,

It only took a second to be square in their sight,

They called me too big for your britches, that’s no lie,

Said it’d take me 2 trips to get me in a car, that’s why.

But Aunt Tiny Sue really gave me a show,

You’re as useless as a screen door on a submarine

Boy, don’t you know.

[Chorus]

It’s that redneck truth serum, no sugar, no cream,

Just a shot of the real world, not some silly dream.

From your crooked fence to your out-of-tune strings,

They’ll roast you to ashes then call you a king.

Copyright October 5, 2025, by Stephen Craig Whitley – All Rights Reserved