(Chorus)
Hey, why ya' in my way?
Whatcha' need ta' do is
Take a load off, Take a load off
Take a load off, Take a load off
Hey, why ya' in my way?
Whatcha' need ta' do is
Take a load off, Take a load off
Take a load off, Take a load off

(Verse I)
Who else is so rural, but still make it feel urban.
Walk up and smile, ask if they can chill Bourbon.
Jim Beam, Jack D, Evan Williams, that's me.
Tellin' Ginuwine "I love Hank singin' -that- key".
Now he's lookin at me, like, "Bub you alright".
Yeah I party dog, but not with them drugs that y'all like.
And I reply to him, "then that lil' fuss is all hype".
I want what you want, and that's the busty bra type.
Where I come from, white boys ain't lame dog.
Honky and all that, the real ones, ain't called.
Don't pull no bullshit unless you playin' paintball.
You a fuckin felon, yeah, but I'm gonna wipe the stank off

CWB, we've nothin to flee
Go on take a load off, I'll clean up the debris
CWB, we've nothin to flee
Go on take a load off, I'll clean up the debris

(Chorus)

(Verse II)
Slowly, homie, just get to know me.
If we ain't compatible then disown me.
But don't tell me you meant to phone me.
If we ain't clear, keep some distance on me.
On and on, Bubba K no matter what I say.
These country folks wouldn't have it, no other way.
Cause I yell, what they ain't got the nuts to say.
And I gotta heap more of it, tucked away.
Plus the beep, beep, Timmy keep heat.
Him and Rick each, ain't no weak links.
Guess I'm just different than whatever you sniffin'.
Still the same language, this ain't hieroglyphics.
Ask am I prolific?, Yes sir, indeed.
Really who are you to be questionin' me.
See how I maneuver so effortlessly.
You'll be hard pressed to find a fresher MC.

(Chorus)

(Verse III)
Free willy, take a load off.
Please, silly, I ain't takin' no loss.
He's, really, got the greatest tone, dog.
One potato, two potato, three potato, don't pause.
Betty boo, let it loose, twerk it for that revenue.
Am I not the most uniquest person that you ever knew?
Walk up in the party, sanitation blurtin' with a brew.
Bet that this album does all the first one didn't do.
Stop with the badgerin'. Can't you see I'm staggerin'?
All that you babblin', ain't even close to matterin'.
But, you shouldn't think, you should know that I'm arrogant.
My "Come Talk To Bubba" shirt, tonight, I ain't wearin' it.

(Chorus)