| Don’t you dare go runnin' down my little town where I grew up
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| And I won’t cuss your city lights
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| If you ain’t ever took a ride around and cruised right through the heart of my
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| town
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| Anything you say would be a lie
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| We may live our lives a little slower
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| But that don’t mean I wouldn’t be proud to show ya
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| Where I come from
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| There’s an old plow boy out turnin' up dirt
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| Where I come from
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| There’s a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
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| Where I come from
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| Where a couple of boys fight in the parkin' lot
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| No, nobody’s gonna call the cops
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| Where I come from
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| See that door right there, man, I swear that it ain’t never been locked
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| And I guarantee that it never will
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| That old man right there in the rockin' chair at the courthouse square,
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| I’ll tell you now
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| He could buy your fancy car with hundred dollar bills
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| Don’t let those faded overalls fool ya
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| He made his millions without one day of schoolin'
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| Where I come from
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| There’s a pickup truck with the tailgate down
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| Where I come from
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| The pine trees are singin' a song of the south
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| Where I come from
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| That little white church is gonna have a crowd
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| And yeah, I’m pretty damn proud
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| Of where I come from
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| Where I come from
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| There’s a big ol' moon shinin' down at night
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| Where I come from
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| There’s a man done wrong, gonna make it right
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| Where I come from
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| There’s an old plow boy out turnin' up dirt
|
| Where I come from
|
| There’s a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
|
| Where I come from
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| Where a couple of boys fight in the parkin' lot
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| No, ain’t nobody gonna call the cops
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| Yeah, that river runs across that old flint rock
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| Where I come from
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| Where I come from |