I'd like to tell y'all a story 
About a friend of mine 
Who liked to drink good whiskey, oh Lord 
And have a real good time 
His woman, you know she left him 
And stole that boy's brand new car 
And ran out of town with a guitar picker 
Said he gonna be a superstar 
Sure you are

 [bad word]  
You can't alway [bad word] your woman 
You can't always [bad word] your best friend 
Beware of the ones that you need y'all 
'Cause those might be the ones that do you in

Don't talk no stuff to no slicker 
Don't tell your feelings to your friend 
Don't tell your woman that you love her, because 
That's when your trouble begins 
There are many ladies here among us 
That'll stab you in the back when you ain't around 
There are many, so many of your very best friends 
That'll kick you in the head when you are down 
Yes they will

 [bad word] 

Don't you backtalk the police 
'Cause its his job to put you in the jail 
They'll lock you up, boy and throw away the key 
And your best friend won't even go your bail 
There are many slickers here among us 
That are all dressed up in suits and ties 
But don't you show your pain, Lord in front of them 
'Cause if you do you kiss yourself goodbye, alright 

 [bad word]