Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song California Grown , by - Tyler RichRelease date: 10.08.2015
Song language: English
California Grown |
| Friday night, strings tuned just right |
| On a stage under some cheap neon lights |
| 35 of my best friends in the crowd |
| At that Town Pump where I was playing when |
| I was just 19 and my friends couldn’t get in |
| But, you sure as hell know we were |
| Sneakin' through the back door |
| I’ve played 46 out of the 50 states |
| For the last 10 years just trying to find my way |
| But every time I leave I just wanna come back home |
| I’m California Grown |
| Yeah we spend our |
| Weekdays with dirt on our hands |
| Weekends our toes in the sand |
| Shootin' whiskey on a Friday night |
| But Saturday we’re sippin' Margaritas in the daylight |
| Sunday when the service ends |
| Hop in the truck, throw the boat on a hitch |
| Pullin' Tracy over 6ft wakes |
| Spending every summer out there on Clear Lake |
| Just me and the boys, doin' all we know |
| Yeah there’s nothing quite like this place that I call home |
| I’m California Grown |
| Yeah we’re California Grown |
| You might think you know about this place, and say |
| «There ain’t nothin country 'bout the Golden State, it’s just |
| Palm trees, beaches and celebrities.» |
| Well have you ever heard about that Bakersfield Sound? |
| Owens and Haggard used to run that town |
| You go 2 hours north of the Hollywood sign you’ll find |
| Farm lands, miles wide |
| Weekdays with dirt on our hands |
| Weekends our toes in the sand |
| Shootin' whiskey on a Friday night |
| But Saturday we’re sippin' Margaritas in the daylight |
| Sunday when the service ends |
| Hop in the truck, throw the boat on a hitch |
| Pullin' Tracy over 6ft wakes |
| Spending every summer out there on Clear Lake |
| Just me and the boys, doin' all we know |
| Yeah there’s nothing quite like this place that I call home |
| I’m California Grown |
| Yeah we’re California Grown |
| From Santa Rosa all the way to LA |
| From San Diego to the San Fran Bay |
| Well you can find me in the Sacramento Valley |
| Probably shootin' shit with Mr. Jon Pardi |
| Weekdays with dirt on our hands |
| Weekends our toes in the sand |
| Shootin' whiskey on a Friday night |
| But Saturday we’re sippin' Margaritas in the daylight |
| Sunday when the service ends |
| Hop in the truck, throw the boat on a hitch |
| Pullin' Tracy over 6ft wakes |
| Spending every summer out there on Clear Lake |
| Just me and the boys, doin' all we know |
| Yeah there’s nothing quite like this place that I call home |
| I’m California Grown |
| California Grown |
| California Grown |