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
I got the baddest bitch in the game
Diamonds on her neck and wrist make it rain
I eat Percocet ease the pain
Hate it or you love it imma pull up in your brain
Trap star, rock star, you can hear it in the guitar
Oh god, this a lambo not a Mopar
Fishtail doing doughnuts like a go-cart
They go 12 hit the gas on a cop car
Oh my soul l I can tell when she looking for the gold
Oh my soul I get the bag then I'm out the back door
Make the weed smoke blow
While I'm on the balcony in the robe
Black diamonds in some chrome
Get the bread gotta get it by the loaf
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
Alright
We raised up on that Hank Jr. 83, son
Put your hands in the air, put your hands in the air
Now somebody scream