Lyrics:

(Mark Nesler/Tracy Byrd)

I could tell she was a hot rod
When she walked in all alone
Made a pit stop at the front bar,
In a puff of smoke was gone
I followed her smell of perfume,
'Cause she was too far out of sight
Tried to catch up but the girl was running
One hell of a race tonight

She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine
All it takes to keep her tuned up
Is boots and Wrangler jeans
She scoots about fifty times around the floor
On one shot of Jim Beam
She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine

There's a guy on every corner,
Watching her make the bend
Hoping he'll be the next one
To take her for a spin
She's not the kind that can be hot wired
With money or romance
Got a body built for pleasure,
But all she wants to do is dance

She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine
All it takes to keep her tuned up
Is boots and Wrangler jeans
She scoots about fifty times around the floor
On one shot of Jim Beam
She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine

Instrumental

She scoots about fifty times around the floor
On one shot of Jim Beam
She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine

She's a real low maintenance,
Country music beat driven,
Honky-tonk dancin' machine...