| I ain’t never hauled hay in the trunk of my car
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| But I drunk a little shine from a mason jar
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| I know how to work and how ta have fun
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| I’m a good-timin', blue-collar, son-of-a-gun
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| I like monster trucks, tractor pulls, country fairs
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| Huntin' and fishin' and ice cold beer
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| That’s the way I’m gonna be 'till the day I die
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| My baby looks hot in her high heel shoes
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| She looks even cooler in her cowboy boots
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| She can dance to the music, all night long
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| She’s a stick of dynamite, she’s bad to the bone
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| She likes Boogy Woogy, Ragae, Rap, Pop, and Soul
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| Hip-Hop Blues, and Rock and Roll
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| If you really want to know what drives her wild, C-O-U-N-T-R-Y
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| You might not know it by the way we talk
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| We might not show it by the way we walk
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| But we’re true and tried, genuine, certified, C-O-U-N-T-R-Y
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| That’s the way we’re gonna be until the day we die
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| I said C-O-U-N-T-R-Y |