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Text: Brad Paisley. American Saturday Night. The Pants.

36, 32, boot cut with a skoal ring
Grease stains, bleach spots and a hole in the knee
You say the man inside those Levi's don't take orders
And she'll just have to realize you'll do as you damn well please

You wear the pants, buddy good for you
I'm so impressed, yeah whoopty-doo
You need to know that ain't how it works
It's not who wears the pants, it's who wears the skirt

In the top drawer of her dresser there's some panties
Go try on that purple pair with the lacy frill
With your big old thighs I bet you can't get in 'em
And with that attitude of yours, hell I bet you never will

You wear the pants, buddy good for you
I'm so impressed, yeah whoopty-doo
You need to know that ain't how it works
It's not who wears the pants, it's who wears the skirt

A big old boy like you can probably bench 350
A little thing like her can barely lift the bar
But just wait until that woman has a headache
And she sits there with her legs crossed we'll see how strong you are

You wear the pants, buddy good for you
We're so impressed, whoopty-doo
You'll soon find out that ain't how it works
It's not who wears the pants, it's who wears the skirt
You wear the pants, she'll wear the skirt

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