Rolling Stone called me the most open-minded redneck on the block
Yeah, but I ain't the first good ol' boy to mix country with his rock
See I grew up in a single wide with a poster of Kid Rock
And when you start out from the bottom son,
You scream when you're on top
From a muddy truck to a shiny bus to a twin turbo jet
The odds are always stacked against me
But there ain't nothin' stopped me yet
Cause I make money, I make music
I got swagger and I use it
Cowboy hat when I feel it
Feather in the back, Zebco reelin'
Skip from a Bentley to a 350
I wake up in the mornin' see how it hits me
At the end of the day I'm just a redneck boy in the hills of Tennessee
And I was raised not to care what people say about me
See I got the hottest woman that this world has ever seen
And I married that girl on a farm in the country
Underneath a magnolia tree
A couple years went by and a demo of mine hopped on the radio
So we bumped it up to a master track and we took it out on the road
And before I knew it there was Platinum records up hangin' on my wall
And I thank God every day I'm a member of the Grand Ole Opry y'all
Cause I make money, I make music
I got swagger and I use it
Cowboy hat when I feel it
Feather in the back, Zebco reelin'
Skip from a Bentley to a 350
I wake up in the mornin' see how it hits me
At the end of the day I'm just a redneck boy
In the hills of Tennessee
And I was raised not to care what people say about me
Now all the people in the front say "Oh yeah"
Now all the people in the back say "Alright"
Now put your right and your left hand up
Back and forth, let me see you all night
See I share the wealth and I share the blessings
'Cause the blessings were given to me
And I give my thanks and all of my praise to a God that I can't see
Cause I make money, I make music
I got swagger and I use it
Cowboy hat when I feel it
Feather in the back, Zebco reelin'
Skip from a Bentley to a 350
I wake up in the mornin' see how it hits me
At the end of the day I'm just a redneck boy
In the hills of Tennessee
And I was raised not to care what people say about me
We raised up on that Hank Jr. 83, son
Put your hands in the air, put your hands in the air
Now somebody scream