Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Is Our Song, artist - Colt Ford. Date of issue: 02.03.2015
Song language: English
This Is Our Song |
| It’s the mudslingin', country singin' redneck stunner |
| Imma show you who I am if you really think you wanna |
| take a ride down the dirty road, show ya where the still is |
| skeered? |
| stay at home son, this is where the real is |
| Folks 'round her still believe in God |
| and the right to tote a gun and our flag don’t run |
| ain’t askin' you fo nothin' if we can’t get it on our own |
| tell the government to leave my check and church alone |
| Y’all can do y’all and we’ll do us |
| and our money should always say «In God We Trust» |
| So if you think like that, then you one of us |
| if not then move on and leave us alone |
| Cuz country folk can survive, jus' ask Hank |
| leave my money in my pocket y’all can have the bank |
| I’m tryin to tell ya we smarter than some of y’all think |
| even though we talk slow all of y’all should know that. |
| This is our song everybody sing it |
| clap your hands y’all and do it like you mean it |
| Stand our ground and we don’t back down |
| if you’re from a small town and you’re never gonna leave it |
| This is our song everybody sing it |
| clap your hands y’all and do it like you mean |
| Stand our ground and we don’t back down |
| and if you don’t like it then don’t come around |
| We come from hardworking people, they can’t stand a thief |
| don’t like a liar, freezer full of deer meat |
| home grown tomatoes in the kitchen window |
| Daddy is a deacon, mama sings «Swing Low» |
| at the church in the choir, Sunday dinners on the fire |
| Colt Ford Danny Boone gettin' mud up on the tires |
| We represent our folk but don’t take us for a joke |
| we got a cooler full of boo and a pocket full of smoke |
| Yeah we country as corn bread, and pumpin' Nappy Roots |
| and if it ain’t funeral we ain’t gon' wear a suit |
| We peein' off the front porch, peein' of da back |
| cuz we livin' in da boonies and they don’t know where we at |
| Can’t market us urban, won’t market us rural |
| drinkin' moonshine till we drunk and seein' plural |
| Small town livin' and we don’t give a damn |
| if yo Hollywood or not, cuz we know who we am |
| Ain’t funny how the money change who you is |
| sell your sould to teh devil be a star in his biz |
| give up everything so you can play this game |
| make a buncha folks happy that don’t know yo name |
| Don’t worry 'bout me, Imma spit the truth |
| see I gotta represent for our country youth |
| and keep hope alive, cuz I will survive |
| with a shotgun baby and a four wheel drive |
| I’m buck huntin' dog runnin' playin' in a mud hole |
| pumping Johnny Cash, haulin' ass down a back road |
| Love it in the country where my soul is free |
| In God and my family is all I need, sing it |