You can play music, because the band lost the battle against the DJ a long time ago when stadiums made speakers loud enough to strip the paint off Les Miles' hair and rattle the windows in the pressbox. (Hi, LSU, and your gigantic mindkilling subwoofers.) The band is in second place, and that's less a matter of taste or the death of tradition than speakers simply being really, really loud things.
That said, there must be rules, and reasonable ones at that. You can play almost anything you want, but there must be rules of engagement. You cannot play songs during plays, Auburn, not even the opening riff of "Welcome To the Jungle." (Which they do, all the time.) There should be a few other prohibitions, as well.
Your state is such an officially miserable wild boar-ridden pine barren of human misery that the band called "Alabama" had to sing about Tennessee to make happy music. You don't get this song, but you also don't have to be Tennessee football because life is all about tradeoffs, and Alabama chose football over humanity a long time ago. (AND NEVER REGRETTED IT ROLL TIDE.)
Tennessee: You don't get to play any Dolly. She would have won the division at least once in the last decade on sheer vivacity alone.
Look, dammit. You don't ACTUALLY want Bobby Petrino back. Stop saying that or he'll show up. Stop it. Stop. STOP.
Claiming things that don't belong to you is such an Alabama thing to do, so leave this alone. You have "All I Do Is Win," and eighty year olds throw up their hands and let them stay there, Auburn. Leave a song that is now three decades old (and more applicable to LSU, anyway) alone.
Like it's appropriate in any way whatsoever.
Because the part about a hopeless place is so accurate, and the part about finding love there so utterly misleading.
P.S. STOP PLAYING THUNDERSTRUCK