Back of my Hand

We're gonna be twenty minutes late wherever we go

You're gonna make me stop at the drive through to get yourself a Red Bull

You're gonna grab that radio dial and turn the music up way too loud

This happens every time that we go out

I know you just like the back of my hand

You're gonna have those ripped jeans on and that sweet perfume

That long black curly hair, your eyes are always ocean blue

You're gonna talk about your Mama, and Jesus, singing Florida Georgia Line

This happens to me every single night

Yeah I know you just like the back of my hand