I was born and raised,
A bootlegger's boy,
In the Cherokee Hills,
I applied my trade,
In Mountain City,
I had me a time,
Just making money,
On Moonshine.
So I hauled my load,
Into Knoxville Town,
I met me a gal,
And we knocked around,
But them Knoxville girls,
Can't leave me alone,
In my suits so fine,
And my bottle of corn.
I'm going back to Mountain City,
Where I can make another run,
Load my trunk with Moonshine whiskey,
I am a brave Bootlegger's son.
Yeah I sold that corn,
To the Circuit Judge,
On the Public Square,
To Mayor Trent,
But I met with trouble,
On the tracks one night,
With a drunken man,
I commenced to fight.
Yeah I fought five rounds,
Then I put him away,
With a wicked jab,
From a razor blade,
And the women screamed,
As the bottles broke,
On stoney ground,
Where the blood did flow.
I'm going back to Mountain City,
Gonna make those revenues run,
I killed a man in a feud of whiskey,
I am a cruel Bootlegger's son.
Now I roam the night,
Just to hide my shame,
I lost all my money,
Can't find a friend,
Gonna drag my bones,
To the mountainside,
If corn don't kill me,
I might never die.
I'm going back to Mountain City,
Or else they'll hang me this I know,
I killed a man in a feud of whiskey,
I am a cruel Bootlegger's boy.
I'm going back to Mountain City,
To the Cherokee Hills I started from,
Going home broke ain't it a pity,
I am a cruel Bootlegger's son.
Bootlegger's Boy Lyrics performed by Old Crow Medicine Show are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Bootlegger's Boy Lyrics performed by Old Crow Medicine Show is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD