Alligator skins, crocodile hides, good ol` boys, and their Southern brides
City folk come for the lure of the bounty
But they don`t come back `cause the sheriff of the country is
Buford T. Jefferson Davis III
And I`m only here to warn you if you haven`t heard about:
Gator hides- a sheriff`s pride
Everyglades mirrored shades
He`s a good ol` boy but he ain`t no good
He`ll bust your head on a stump
Just like splittin` wood
Got a story of his own though he ain`t askin` for pity
Saw his folks shot dead for twelve dollars in the city
So Buford was orphaned by the city at ten
Got a chip on his shoulder the size of Gentle Ben
(CHORUS)
Hunted 10,000 islands, drank 10,000 beers
Wanted 10,000 dollars, got 10,000 years
So I drank myself blind, on a homemade solution
As my body rots away in a penal institution
So if you come for the gators let me give you a clue
The shefiff of the county`s got it in for you