Was the week before Vegas, and all through the place
The drinks, they were flowing, it looked like a race
The the slickers from Vegas, were spoiling to fight
As Mounties were saying, "Now, that’s surely not right"
"You have played four games, you surely do smell
There’s no way that you ‘ll win, there is no way in Hell"
As they paused for a breath, they took a quick drink
A fellow from Vegas," It is you folks that stink!"
"Because we have a great team, and we’re from the West
Now, it’s just common sense, that we should be the best
‘Cause you’re just hillbillies, your from the Big East
Its been well documented, that you all are the least"
Well, it started an uproar, then someone said, "hick"
Almost sure, I heard, "liar", and I might of heard, "prick"
Was a moment of silence, then a hillbilly farted
At the blast of ill wind, the fighting was started
There’s a time, for departing, for making of wills
So I bolted that place, without paying my bills
I do not know the ending, I can’t say that I will
And as far as I know, they are all fighting still
Now, I didn’t get an answer, I don’t know who’s right
So, pray tell me kind sirs, who’s the victor tonight