What You Think chords by Rebel Son

Tuning: Standard (E A D G B E)

Intro:
e|------------------0--------------------------------------------------------|
B|-8--5--7p5---5------3-0----------------------------------------------------|
G|-----------6------------3-2-0----------------------------------------------|
D|---------------------------------------------------------------------------|
A|---------------------------------------------------------------------------|
E|---------------------------------------------------------------------------|


(0:05)
E

(0:13) (play an E chord and reach for the G with your pinky)
E G E
E G E
E G E
E G E
E G E E
A

(0:21)
E


Verse 1:
E
In this day and age, Lifestyles ain't all the same.

Everybody's lookin for somebody else to blame.
     A
But nothing irritates me worse than you hear you rich folks whine.
          E
You're addicted to wealth and to yourself,you're addicted to the dollar sign.
    B
You put me down cause I was raised
         A
Just a little bit different from you,
        E
Well I work with my hands and respect my lands,
        B              E
I'm trustee tried and true.


Verse 2:
         E
You get up to go to work, put on your pretty suit and tie,

Well I put on a beat up shirt, work boots, and faded old levi's.
    A
I grind my fucking knuckles to the bone to make ends meet.
         E
So I'm glad that you get mad, when I drive fast down your street.
     B
You get pissed off cause we like being
     A
Mad all over town.
             E
Well you can go to hell cause my Rebel Yell
B               E
Volume don't go down.


Chorus:
                A
We're just backwoods boys, making noise in a new age society.
               E
And we don't give a shit about the stock market or life of luxury.
   A
A simple man is what I am, status ain't for me,
      B
I may not have a yacht, but I'm happy as can be.
        A
I can drink a beer and shoot a deer faster than you can blink.
          E
But you think I'm trash and you're high class and that your shit don't stink.
            B                          A
Well I'm a honky tonkin, rib rompin, shit stompin redneck and
E              B             E
I don't give a fuck what you think.


Verse 3:
      E
You snobby mr. Monebags have people you call friends,

But when it came down to it, you'd probly be to greedy to help them.
           A
Well I've got more buddies for whom I'd put my life on the line,
         E
Cause I know they'd do the same for me if I was ever in a bind.
      B                                  A
Well your heart is made from parts that come from a septic tank,
          E                                             B                 E
When you kids don't earn you'll start to burn, you can take that to the bank.


Verse 4:
      E
You read the Wall Street Journal, sippin champagne in your limosine,

Well I'll be alright with a cold Bud Light and a hot rod magazine.
          A
You all love your bmw's and Porches that you drive,
         E
Well my gas guzzling '67 Bowtie suits me fine.
     B                                 A
So keep in mind you pretty kids that think you're all so cool,
          E                                 B                   E
Just remember we're the ones that beat the shit out of you in school.


Chorus:
                A
We're just backwoods boys, making noise in a new age society.
               E
And we don't give a shit about the stock market or life of luxury.
   A
A simple man is what I am, status ain't for me,
      B
I may not have a yacht, but I'm happy as can be.
        A
I can drink a beer and shoot a deer faster than you can blink.
          E
But you think I'm trash and you're high class and that your shit don't stink.
            B                          A
Well I'm a honky tonkin, rib rompin, shit stompin redneck and
E              B             E
I don't give a fuck what you think.


Solo:
A | A | E | E | A | A |  B | B
A | A | E | E | B | A |E B | E


Verse 5:
     E
You like to play crochet, talk politics and vanity.

Well the grand ol' opry on saturday night on the radio's fine with me.
      A
I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth,
          E
But I'm proud to be a no bullshit boy from down south.
      B                     A
I'm 100% workin man that's what I'll always be,
         E                                   B                     E
So you upper class can kiss my ass cause you ain't worth a shit to me.


Chorus:
                A
We're just backwoods boys, making noise in a new age society.
               E
And we don't give a shit about the stock market or life of luxury.
   A
A simple man is what I am, status ain't for me,
      B
I may not have a yacht, but I'm happy as can be.
        A
I can drink a beer and shoot a deer faster than you can blink.
          E
But you think I'm trash and you're high class and that your shit don't stink.
            B                          A
Well I'm a honky tonkin, rib rompin, shit stompin redneck and
E              B             E
I don't give a fuck what you think.


Ending:
   E                              B           A            E
No we don't give a fuck about your big bucks or what you think.
     C#m              B                      E
No weeeee don't give a flyin fuck what you think.
 B    E
Fuck you!



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| p  Pull-off

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