C-o-u-n-t-r-y

I ain't never hauled hay in the trunk of my car,

But I drunk a little shine from a mason jar.

I know how to work and how ta have fun,

I'm a good-timin', blue-collar, son-of-a-gun

I like monster trucks, tractor pulls, country fairs,

Huntin' and fishin' and ice cold beer.

That's the way I'm gonna be 'till the day I die,

C-O-U-N-T-R-Y

My baby looks hot in her high heel shoes,

She looks even cooler in her cowboy boots.

She can dance to the music, all night long,

She's a stick of dynamite, she's bad to the bone.

She likes Boogy Woogy, Ragae, Rap, Pop, and Soul,

Hip-Hop Blues, and Rock and Roll.

If you really want to know what drives her wild, C-O-U-N-T-R-Y

You might not know it by the way we talk,

We might not show it by the way we walk,

But we're true and tried, genuine, certified, C-O-U-N-T-R-Y

That's the way we're gonna be until the day we die

C-O-U-N-T-R-Y

I said C-O-U-N-T-R-Y