Lyrics
Just an ole country boy with my hat to the back
With a double-wide dream, a couple of jazz tats
Down in ole Doral where I pay my dues
I thank the Lord that I'm breathing and Stevie Ray for the blues
Just an ole country boy with my hat to the back
If I said it, then I meant it, I ain't taking nothing back
Had to get it out the mud, still got dirt on my boots
I'm working hard for a living and barely making it through
I'm working hard for a living, trying to make ends meet
I grew up with the hounds, so I don't shit where I sleep
I turned a diamond to a dream, out the trailer park window
Got it out the mud, better runnin' as your kinfolk
Hat to the back with a double-wide dream
A couple jailhouse tats, but you don't see what I see
You ain't walked in my shoes, you can't fit in my jeans
I've gotta get it how I live, and that's by any means
Just an ole country boy from a no-name town
Where the things we think were new were really just tear me downs
We ain't got a lick stove, so we're making our own
If you come, we'll come correct, because we're molding a song
We ain't casting a stone, we try to live by the book
I thank the Lord that I'm breathing and for the fish on this hook
I'd give the shirt off of my back for anyone who really needs it
If I'm lying, then I'm dying, and I'm still steady speaking
Just an ole country boy, I wear my hat to the back
With a double-wide dream, a couple of jazz tats
Down in ole Doral where I pay my dues
I thank the Lord that I'm breathing and Stevie Ray for the blues
Just an ole country boy with my hat to the back
If I said it, then I meant it, I ain't taking nothing back
Had to get it out the mud, still got dirt on my boots
I'm working hard for a living and barely making it through
I like to call it how I see it, if I said it, bet I meant it
I'm below that Mason-Dixon running game, this ain't a scrimmage
Every day's a different problem, every day's a different hustle
I was born to raise hell, Mama should have named me Trouble
I like my seat laid back while I'm taking it slow
I got a family full of villains that ain't making parole
They sold their soul to the devil for a bag full of dope
Now they call at home, collect, pray, and we answer the phone
All the dirt that I've done, I learned to do on my own
If you never have a witness, who's to say that you're wrong?
I'm a legend in the making, headed straight for the throne
She's my little pride and joy, she was made from my bones
You better watch how you speak, you better lower your tone
Before your last bow movement is at a funeral home
I'm just a small-town boy who never changed his ways
Working daylight to dark for pocket lint and spare change
Just an ole country boy, I wear my hat to the back
With a double-wide dream, a couple of jailhouse tats
Down an older road where I pay my dues
I thank the Lord that I'm breathing and Stevie Ray for the blues
Just an ole country boy with my hat to the back
If I said it, then I meant it, I ain't taking nothing back
Had to get it out the mud, still got dirt on my boots
I'm working hard for a living and barely making it through
Written by: Justin Lee Ard