Crook'd Hook'r - Hard to Verify

[Instrumental Intro] [Verse 1] It started down at Pickwick with the rods laid out, Minn Kota tournament, fishermen all around. Marshall saw a little joint glowing down the road, Part bar, part bait shop—Lord only knows. Said, “We could walk from here if the truck won’t go,” Then he grinned real slow: “It’s the Crooked Hooker, bro.” Everybody started laughing, but the name stuck tight, Like a rusty treble hook in a stump at night. Then I bought me a boat before Bailey sold his, Marshall climbed aboard like the damn thing was his. Didn’t ask permission, didn’t need a vote— Called her Crooked Hooker before I named the boat. [Pre-Chorus] Later down at Chickamauga on my birthday trip, Private ramp, dock lights, cold drinks on ice. Woke up the next morning, saw the decal shine— That crooked little name had finally come alive. [Chorus] Crooked Hooker, back her down slow, White on the water with the deck lights low. Running toward a sunrise, leaving trouble on shore, We came to catch a largemouth—might catch something more. Crooked Hooker, everybody knows, She’ll take all your money, then steal all your clothes. If the wife starts asking what the new gear cost, That information’s classified—and the receipt got lost. Crooked Hooker! Let the whole ramp hear it. Crooked Hooker! That’s a fishing man’s spirit. Crooked Hooker! One more cast, one more lie— We ain’t hiding from nobody… We’re just hard to verify. [Verse 2] Mushy showed up late with a Bud Light case, Marlboros in his pocket and confusion on his face. Forgot half his tackle, brought six bags of ice, Said, “I packed the important stuff.” Well, technically right. Bailey’s tying something nobody’s ever seen, Claims it won on Guntersville back in twenty-nineteen. Marshall’s at the console giving orders to the crew, Hasn’t caught one yet—but he knows what we should do. Somebody missed a giant, now she’s “ten pounds easy,” Lost her by the boat, so the details got greasy. By the time we reach the ramp, she’s an unofficial twelve, With a head like a shovel and a ZIP code to herself. [Pre-Chorus] Every fisherman’s honest when the camera’s rolling, But the minute that it’s off, that weight starts growing. We protect our little secrets like they came from the state— You can ask us where we caught ’em; we’ll point across the lake. [Chorus] Crooked Hooker, back her down slow, White on the water with the deck lights low. Running toward a sunrise, leaving trouble on shore, We came to catch a largemouth—might catch something more. Crooked Hooker, everybody knows, She’ll take all your money, then steal all your clothes. If the wife starts asking what the new gear cost, That information’s classified—and the receipt got lost. Crooked Hooker! Let the whole ramp hear it. Crooked Hooker! That’s a fishing man’s spirit. Crooked Hooker! One more cast, one more lie— We ain’t hiding from nobody… We’re just hard to verify. [Verse 3] This ain’t about pretending every day’s a win, Some days they hammer it, some days we get skinned. Some days the wind howls and the trolling motor quits, And Mushy drops the pliers where the deepest water sits. But we keep showing up before the morning turns blue, For the strike, for the story, for the fools in the crew. For the gas-station breakfast and the long ride home, For the one secret pocket that we’ll never put online. It’s a boat, it’s a brand, it’s a bad alibi, It’s five more minutes underneath a Tennessee sky. It’s the fish that broke us off and the one we swear we saw, It’s a crooked little brotherhood that don’t run straight at all. [Bridge] Keep the waypoint private. Keep the cooler cold. Keep your best story changing Every time it gets told. Put the hammer down, boys, Let that rooster tail fly. If anybody needs us— We went fishing. That’s the alibi. [Final Chorus] Crooked Hooker, back her down slow, White on the water with the whole deck glowing. From Old Hickory water to Chickamauga shore, We came to catch a largemouth—now the whole crowd wants more. Crooked Hooker, everybody knows, She’ll take all your money, but that’s how fishing goes. If the wife starts asking where the paycheck went, Tell her “landscaping supplies”—and stand by what you meant. Crooked Hooker! Let the whole lake hear it. Crooked Hooker! That’s a fishing man’s spirit. Crooked Hooker! Raise your drink up high— We ain’t hiding from nobody… We’re just hard to verify. [Outro Chorus] Crooked Hooker! One more cast tonight. Crooked Hooker! Keep the deck lights bright. Crooked Hooker! Let that crooked flag fly— Fishing ain’t a hobby, boys… It’s one hell of an alibi.