(Written by S. Wooley)
Well in North Carolina, way back in the hills
Lived my old pappy and he had him a still
He brewed white lightnin’ ’til the sun went down
Then he’d fill him a jug and he’d pass it around
Mighty, mighty pleasin, pappy’s corn squeezin’
Whshhhoooh . . . white lightnin’
(Chorus)
Well the «G» men «T» men revenuers, too
Searchin’ for the place where he made his brew
They were looking, tryin to book him, but my pappy kept a-cookin’
Whshhhoooh . . . white lightnin’
(Repeat chorus)
Well I asked my old pappy why he called his brew
White lightnin’ ‘stead of mountain dew
I took a little sip and right away I knew
As my eyes bugged out and my face turned blue
Mighty, mighty pleasin, pappy’s corn squeezin’
Shhhoooh . . . white lightnin’
(Repeat chorus)
Well a city slicker came and he said «I’m tough»
I think I wanna taste that powerful stuff
He took one s-s-sip and drank it right down
And I heard him a moaning as he hit the ground
Mighty, mighty pleasin, pappy’s corn squeezin’
Whshhhoooh . . . white lightnin’