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Detalhes da música

Avaliação
4.5(8)
Acordes
Escala
Fa♯
bpm
176
Afinação
440 Hz
Artista
jam sessions
24111
Ano de lançamento
2008
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Carregando os acordes de 'Zac Brown Band - Chicken Fried (Official Music Video) | The Foundation'.
You know I like my chicken friedAnd cold beer on a Friday nightA pair of jeans that fit just rightAnd the radio upWell, I was raised up beneath the shade of a Georgia pineAnd that's home you knowSweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade wineWhere the peaches growAnd my house it's not much to talk aboutBut it's filled with love that's grown in southern groundAnd a little bit of chicken friedCold beer on a Friday nightA pair of jeans that fit just rightAnd the radio upI like to see the sunriseSee the love in my woman's eyesFeel the touch of a precious childAnd know a mother's loveIt's funny how it's the little things in life that mean the mostNot where you live, what you drive or the price tag on your clothesThere's no dollar sign on a peace of mind, this I've come to knowSo if you agree, have a drink with meRaise your glasses for a toastTo a little bit of chicken friedAnd cold beer on a Friday nightA pair of jeans that fit just rightAnd the radio upI like to see the sunriseSee the love in my woman's eyesFeel the touch of a precious childAnd know a mother's loveI thank God for my lifeAnd for the stars and stripesMay freedom forever fly, let it ringSalute the ones who diedThe ones that give their lives so we don't have to sacrificeAll the things we loveLike our chicken friedAnd cold beer on a Friday nightA pair of jeans that fit just rightAnd the radio upI like to see the sunriseSee the love in my woman's eyesFeel the touch of a precious childAnd know a mother's loveGet your little chicken friedAnd cold beer on a Friday nightA pair of jeans that fit just rightAnd the radio upI like to see the sunriseSee the love in my woman's eyesFeel the touch of a precious childAnd know a mother's loveLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind | Por: Wyatt Durrette, Zac Brown | Lyrics © BLACKSTONE ENTERTAINMENT, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Lyrics

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Introdução

You know I like my chicken fried
And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up

Instrumental

Well, I was raised up beneath the shade of a Georgia pine
And that's home you know
Sweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade wine

Introdução

Where the peaches grow
And my house it's not much to talk about
But it's filled with love that's grown in southern ground
And a little bit of chicken fried
Cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right

Refrão

And the radio up
I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child

Instrumental

And know a mother's love
It's funny how it's the little things in life that mean the most
Not where you live, what you drive or the price tag on your clothes

Verso

There's no dollar sign on a peace of mind, this I've come to know
So if you agree, have a drink with me
Raise your glasses for a toast
To a little bit of chicken fried
And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right

Refrão

And the radio up
I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child
And know a mother's love

Verso

Refrão

I thank God for my life
And for the stars and stripes
May freedom forever fly, let it ring
Salute the ones who died
The ones that give their lives so we don't have to sacrifice

Instrumental

All the things we love
Like our chicken fried
And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up

Verso

I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child
And know a mother's love
Get your little chicken fried
And cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up
I like to see the sunrise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child

Refrão

And know a mother's love

Fim


Por: Wyatt Durrette, Zac Brown · Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind · Lyrics © BLACKSTONE ENTERTAINMENT, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
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