Lyrics Raised On It - Sam Hunt

Raised On It

Snapbacks, some Levi jeans,
PBR and burnt CDs
Running for the grass on the hot concrete
Still working on our summer feet
Cheap gas and Reddy ice,
Trunk music and headlight fights
Dodging the smoke from a riverbank fire
A pretty girl and a pickup line like
«Hey what’s your name, you know smoke follows beauty, baby»
We stayed up all night long
Made our drinks too strong
Feeling ten feet tall
Rope swinging through the water
In the middle of the night
Like whoa-oh oh whoa-oh
Breaking our boots in
Stompin' on the ground we grew up on
Yeah, we were raised on it
Worked hard and played on it
We had it made on it
We were born and raised on it
Car wash at the custom tent
Sticky quarters and pine tree scent
The only sign that we ever got stuck
Is the muddy chain in the back of the truck
Five 1's with a 20 on top
Three guard at the barber shop
Duckin' from your ex at the 4-way stop
Turn the music down when you pass the cops
We stayed up all night long
Made our drinks too strong
Feeling ten feet tall
Rope swinging through the water
In the middle of the night
Like whoa-oh oh whoa-oh
Breaking our boots in
Stompin' on the ground we grew up on
Yeah, we were raised on it
Worked hard and played on it
We had it made on it
We were born and raised on it
Mama’s prayers and Daddy’s speech
Front porch philosophies
A little too young and dumb to see
Just what it all meant to me
We stayed up all night long
Made our drinks too strong
Feeling ten feet tall
Rope swinging through the water
In the middle of the night
Like whoa-oh oh whoa-oh
Breaking our boots in
Stompin' on the ground we grew up on
Yeah, we were raised on it
Worked hard and played on it
We had it made on it
We were born and raised on it
Whoa-oh oh whoa-oh…
Mmm
Yeah, when that sun started sinking,
And they turned those 'open' signs around?
We thought we ran this town?
Breaking hearts and curfews,
Out in the yard with no shoes,
Staying cool in a nylon pool,
Foul ball, headed for the parking lot.
And those Saturday mornings when you sleep late,
ATVs and firebreaks,
Worn-out jeans, Black Eyed Peas, back roads,
And blue skies
I was born and raised on it,
Might’ve misbehaved on it,
Worked hard and played on it,
We had it made