| There’s a plasic stretched across a broken window pane
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| You gotta dodge the pots an' pans on the floor when it rains
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| There’s a ten-point buck on my livin' room wall:
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| A squirrel and two ducks are hangin' in the hall
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| That hole in my yard is a barbecue pit:
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| A couple times a year, we’ll throw a hog in it
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| There’s a four-wheel drive parked in my driveway:
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| I’m a proud and active member of the NRA
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| Hey, I’m country: I was born and raised in it
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| I’m country, that’s my kind of livin'
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| White beans, collard greens, sweet tea, chicken and dumplin’s
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| Well, I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows:
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| I stay out some nights until the cows come home
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| I’m dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
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| Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country
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| Well, there’s my Mama in the rockin' chair by my screen door:
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| The red, white, and blue hangs off of my front porch
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| There’s my darlin' in the garden pickin' black eyed peas:
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| Kids are bouncin' up and down on the trampoline
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| My truck cost less than my champion 'coon dog:
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| My neck is painted red, by the Grace of God
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| My kids say: «Please, Sir, Thank you and Ma’am.»
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| I ain’t what I ain’t, but I am what I am
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| Hey, I’m country: I was born and raised in it
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| I’m country, that’s my kind of livin'
|
| White beans, collard greens, sweet tea, chicken and dumplin’s
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| I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows:
|
| I stay out some nights until the cows come home
|
| I’m dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
|
| Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country
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| Yeah, I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows:
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| I stay out some nights until the cows come home
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| I’m dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
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| Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country
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| Yeah, I’m a-dog runnin', deer huntin', fish catchin', cow tippin'
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| Corn-pickin', cider-sippin', fight-startin', kid-raisin'
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| Wife-lovin', gun-totin', hay-balin', pea-pickin' country
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| Ha, ha, ha, ha
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| Yeah, I guarantee you, I’m country
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| I ain’t scared to be country neither |