Joe Nichols, Rhonda Vincent - Cash On The Barrelhead Lyrics

Got in a little trouble down at the county seat
Lord they put me in the jailhouse for loafin' on the street
When the judge heard the verdict, I was a guilty man
He said, 45 dollars, or 30 days in the can
That'll be cash on the barrelhead, son
You can make your choice, you're twenty-one
No money down, no credit plan
No time to chase you, I'm a busy man

Found a telephone number, on a laundry slip
And a good hearted jailer, with a six gun hip
He let me call long distance, she said, number, please
No sooner than I told her, she shouted out at me

That'll be cash on the barrelhead, son
Not part, not half, but the entire sum
No money down, no credit plan
Cause the little bird tells me you're a travinlin' man

Thirty days in the jailhouse, four days on the road
I was feelin' mighty hungry, my feet a heavy load
Saw a greyhound comin' stuck out my thumb
Before I got to my seat, the driver caught my arm

Said, that'll be cash on the barrelhead, sun
This grey dog, gets paid to run
When the engine starts, and the wheels don't roll
Give me cash on the barrelhead, I'll take you down the road

Got in a little trouble down at the county seat
Lord they put me in the jailhouse for loafin' on the street
When the judge heard the verdict, I was a guilty man
He said, 45 dollars, or 30 days in the can
That'll be cash on the barrelhead, son
You can make your choice, you're twenty-one
No money down, no credit plan
No time to chase you, I'm a busy man

Found a telephone number, on a laundry slip
And a good hearted jailer, with a six gun hip
He let me call long distance, she said, number, please
No sooner than I told her, she shouted out at me

That'll be cash on the barrelhead, son
Not part, not half, but the entire sum
No money down, no credit plan
Cause the little bird tells me you're a travinlin' man

Thirty days in the jailhouse, four days on the road
I was feelin' mighty hungry, my feet a heavy load
Saw a greyhound comin' stuck out my thumb
Before I got to my seat, the driver caught my arm

Said, that'll be cash on the barrelhead, sun
This grey dog, gets paid to run
When the engine starts, and the wheels don't roll
Give me cash on the barrelhead, I'll take you down the road