Scotty McCreery fans have never heard him sing something like his stomping new honky-tonk hit. “Can’t Pass the Bar” is a traditional country play on words that signals a big change for his upcoming record.

Spoiler alert: This isn’t a song about trying (and failing) to become a lawyer. McCreery and his co-writing team (Brent Anderson, Cale Dodds, Frank Rogers) are country boys who can only be found in one place on Friday nights, even if (or especially if) it upsets their wives.

“We don’t look like much, but we’re pretty damn smart / For some good old boys that can’t pass the bar,” he sings.

Related: Here Are Country Music’s Best Drinking Songs

Fiddle and guitar drive a country throwback that would have fit a Brooks & Dunn album 25 years ago. Lyrically, this is as close to a drinking song as McCreery has sent to country radio — fans know he’s sipped a few during album cuts — but the lyrics of “Can’t Pass the Bar” aren’t as important as the arrangement.

Until Friday (Jan. 12), McCreery has not released a song that truly cooked. We know him as the baby-faced kid who won American Idol in 2011, but if you didn’t stick around, you’ve missed how dynamic he’s become since releasing “Five More Minutes” in 2017. Love songs, breakup songs and now drinking songs are now a convincing part of his repetoire. More than ever, there’s reason to be excited about his next album.

Here Are the Lyrics to Scotty McCreery, “Can’t Pass the Bar”:

Jessie’s a mechanic, his mother-in-law’s a manic / His new wife’s in a panic, saying When you comin’ home / Danny drives a tractor, left it in the pasture / Bosses gettin’ madder ’cause he won’t pick up the phone / Might not be an Ivy League Einstein crowd / But when it comes to Friday night, man, we got it figured out.

Chorus:
When the long weeks’ paychecks are cashed / Where we gonna spend it, buddy, you ain’t gotta ask / When the neon lights are kickin’ on / All of us are headin’ to a homе away from home / We don’t look like much but wе’re pretty damn smart / For some good ol’ boys that can’t pass the bar.

Bobby’s gotta cousin that says he’s good for nothin’ / Always makin’ fun of him ’cause he doesn’t own a suit / Freddy’s ex-lady, got a new Mercedes / From the judge she’s datin’ down in Baton Rouge / He’s the book smart, no dark bull shootin’ kind / That’s why she shows back up every other Friday night.

Repeat Chorus

When you’re raised out here, you are who you are / That two-lane road will only get you so far / We can pass around cigars, guitars and jars / But we can’t, we can’t, can’t pass the bar.

Repeat Chorus