Text: Drive By Truckers. The Dirty South. The Buford Stick.

Now Sheriff Buford Pusser's gotten too big for his britches
With his book reviews and movie deals
Down at the car lot makin' public appearances
For breakin' up our homes and stills
I know he likes to brag how he wrestled a bear
But I knew him from the funeral home
Ask him for a warrant, he'll say "I keep it in my shoe"
That son of a bitch has got to go
That son of a bitch has got to go

Now they lined up around the block to see that movie
And cryin' for his ambushed wife
Marvelin' about shot eight times and stabbed seven
Some folks can't take a hint
They say he didn't take no crap from the State Line Gang
Oh, what the hell they talkin' 'bout?
I'm just a hard workin' man with a family to feed
And he made my daughter cry
Said he made my daughter cry

"Watch out for Buford", is what they keep on tellin' me
But to me he's just another crooked lawman from Tennessee
He gets a hot new car to keep us on our toes
And that ridiculous stick where the press corp goes
And some big time Hollywood actors playin' him on the big screen
Watch out for Buford, he's shuttin' down our stills and whores"
It ain't like he's all that different from what was there before
It wouldn't take my man long to do the job
Just a partially sawed through steering rod
And I wouldn't have to worry about the good Sheriff anymore

Now the funeral's got'em lined up for twenty blocks
No one liked that SOB when he's alive
But the ruckus he began keeps on spreadin' like a wildfire
Not sure if I'm gonna survive
Hit an embankment doin' one twenty on a straight away
The Lord works in mysterious ways
They'll probably make another movie, glorifying what he done
But I'll never have to hear them say
Watch out for Buford
Watch out for Buford