| She’s a high-dollar raised up
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| White collar
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| One of those Dolche and Gabanna
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| Kind of girls
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| She’s got her daddy’s money
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| She aint never lived in the country
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| She’s and uptown ball gown kind of girl
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| but there’s somethin about the country
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| that she loves
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| She dont like those preppy boys
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| with spiked hair and collared shirts on
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| she like boots and jeans and the way I say hey yall
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| our friends say that were like oil and water
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| but we mix like sugar and tea
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| She cant help it, she cant help it
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| she likes the country boy in me
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| la la la la la la
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| she likes the country boy in me
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| la la la la la la
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| yeah she drives a brand new mercedes
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| but shes been thinkin bout tradin
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| for a jacked up chevy on mickey-ts
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| yeah her daddy thinks she crazy
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| he just cant believe his baby
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| has fallen for a poor country boy like me
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| oh, but she dont give a damn about the money
|
| she dont like those preppy boys
|
| with spiked hair and collared shirts on
|
| she likes boots and jeans and the way i say hey yall
|
| our friends say that were like oil and water
|
| but we mix like sugar and tea
|
| she cant help it, she cant help it
|
| she likes the country boy in me
|
| but every friday night we go ridin in my truck
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| she likes to take the dirt road
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| play in the mud
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| she reaches for the radio
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| yeah she turns it up
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| she loves that country stuff
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| but she dont like those preppy boys
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| with spiked hair and collared shirts on
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| she likes my dirty old pickup truck
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| and my liberty overall
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| and our friends say that were like oil and water
|
| but we mix like sugar and tea
|
| she cant help it, she cant help it
|
| oh she cant help it
|
| ooh she cant help it
|
| she like the country boy in me
|
| la la la la la la
|
| she likes the country boy in me
|
| la la la la la la
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| ooh yeah yeah
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| la la la la la la
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| she likes the country
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| and she loves me |