| I’m still running 33's up underneath this truck
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| Even though rush hour concrete is the only place I’m getting stuck
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| Ain’t on the farm no more but on a stretch of sunny days
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| I still catch myself looking up at the sky
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| Praying for a little rain
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| No I can’t outrun these roots
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| Even if I wanted to
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| Cause they run too strong, run too deep
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| Cutting right through the heart of me
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| No it don’t matter where I plant these boots
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| Can’t outrun these roots
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| I can’t outrun these roots
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| There’s still that back-home part of me, that can’t help but see things a
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| little different
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| Like how there ain’t no need to put a 'G' on the end of huntin' or fishin'
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| And I still got granddaddy’s bible, his old rifle and his name
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| But I also got his pour a little more
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| Coarsin' through my veins
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| No I can’t outrun these roots
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| Even if I wanted to
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| Cause they run too strong, run too deep
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| Cutting right through the heart of me
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| No it don’t matter where I plant these boots
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| I can’t outrun these roots
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| Thank God I can’t
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| They’re tangled up in every part of who I am
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| Without 'em I know I don’t stand a chance
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| I can’t outrun these roots
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| I can’t outrun these roots
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| Cause they run too strong, run too deep
|
| Cutting right through the heart of me
|
| No it don’t matter where I plant these boots
|
| Can’t outrun these roots
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| I can’t outrun these roots |