Verse 1 Real men wear red and black, Cut-off camo jorts with the ass hangin’ out the back. Tailgatin’ at dawn in the Myers Quad lot, Already jerkin’ strangers off just to get the spot. One hand on a Busch Light, one hand on your cousin’s meat, Screamin’ “Go Dawgs” while you’re strokin’ to the beat. Chorus Real men wear red and black, Yell “Go Dawgs” while we take it in the back. Bent over a cooler, cheeks spread real wide, Gettin’ railed by a frat bro with a Dawg tattoo on his thigh. We love Kirby Smart—drop to our knees when he farts, Sniff that gassy blessing like it’s comin’ from the Lord. Ain’t nothin’ better than a touch from another man, Georgia fan handshake’s a reach-around in the stands! Verse 2 Standin’ in the student section, pants around my knees, Dreamin’ ’bout the guy behind me blowin’ more than the breeze. Every time we score I feel a finger slip inside, Touchdown for the Dawgs, touchdown in my behind. Got a mouthful of man-juice, still cheerin’ through the drip, Swallerin’ some rando’s kids while I scream “Natty or bust, bitch!” Bridge Between the hedges? Nah, we get it between the trucks, Whole row of F-150s rockin’ while we all get fucked. Kirby claps on the sideline, we all nut in unison, Call it the “wave”—just a circle-jerk religion. Final Chorus (scream it at the top of your lungs while bent over a tailgate) Real men wear red and black! Yell “Go Dawgs” while we take it in the back! Chuggin’ man-juice straight from the hose, Warm Georgia loads runnin’ down my throat and nose. We love Kirby Smart—tongue-punch that fart, Lick the seat where he sat, that’s Georgia fan art. If your belly ain’t sticky and your boxers ain’t tore, You ain’t a real Dawg fan—just a casual whore! Go Dawgs… now who’s next in line?
