Written by Ira Dean and Anthony Smith

Here's a story 'bout the under-dog.
One dollar, five digits an a piebald.
A hundred million bucks ridin' on that ticket.
Here's what happens when a redneck hits it.
Kick it!.

He jumped up an' he tore off his Texaco shirt.
He didn't give a notice, just walked off work.
Ran straight to the bank to collect his money:
Says: "I'll take it in cash an' nothin' bigger than a twenty."

Now the kinfolks say: "Man, it don't make sense.
"He's still livin' with his Mamma but he won't pay rent.
"He got a high definition television in his trailer.
"He's rigs in the trunk for stealin' cable from his neighbour."
Oh yeah.

Well, he's hillbilly rich.
Hillbilly rich.
Just a poor boy livin' out in the sticks.
Well, look at him now, he's hillbilly rich.

Now the farmer scracthed his head an' said: "You must be kiddin'."
When his tractor's standin' still but the revs a-keep a-spinnin'.
He got the front end bouncin' from the air-suspension,
A few tees in the bags in case he once a-wants fishin'.

That's hillbilly rich.
Hillbilly rich.
Just a poor boy livin' out in the sticks.
Well, look at him now, man, he's hillbilly rich.

Instrumental Break.
(So, yeah.)

Well, he's hillbilly rich.
Hillbilly rich.
Just a poor boy livin' out in the sticks.
Well, look at him now, man he's hillbilly rich.

Hillbilly rich.
Hillbilly rich.
That boy's hillbilly rich.
Hillbilly.

Did I mention, dune dogs, shotguns, an' tree stands.
I wanna shoot something.
Boon doggy.

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