Well, I come off this hitch to Nashville
And all that I'd seen was dudes in Ed Hardy shirts
And some religious jeans
Buying up Mardi Gras beads
And even worse than that
They's dancing in a line to some chick named Rascal Flatts
But I had an old guitar
And I thought maybe I'd bum the strip
And play a few of my songs
And maybe a few odd Waylon hits
And try to hustle me up some grits, cigarettes
Maybe a bottle of easy Jesus
And this producer come along with tailored swift pitch
Said son, I'm gonna make you rich if you care to make the switch
Selling your country songs to some slick sun of gun
Who ain't never swung a hammer or seen the inside of cell
I said, mister, I ain't worried about your wealth
In case you can't already tell
I'm the rural deal
Outstanding in my field
I got a yard full of old junk cars
I've got a heart of steel
I've got a little bitty house
With a big 'ole deck
I've got a knife in boots and some scars on my head
If you think I look rough, you reckon correct
I ain't groomed for mass appeal
I'm the rural deal
You Nashville dandies and you industry bullies
Y'all have had a pretty good run
But now you gotta deal with Jonesy
And I've been stacking bales and splitting rails
Since I was thirteen years old
Assume you have to tell our limousine driver
That we might just be walking home
Ooopsie
I've been in a few scrapes with the law
Broke my face, my feet, and hands
But that's probably just part of some greater plan
And I know a lot of you show ponies might not understand
But, the women will
That I'm the rural deal
Outstanding in my field
I got a yard full of old junk cars
How's that for curb appeal
Yeah
I've got a little bitty house
With a big 'ole deck
I've got a knife in boot and some sun on my neck
If you think I look rough, you reckon correct, boy
I ain't groomed for mass appeal
But I'm the rural deal
♪
Some say it's studio A, some say it's studio B
But out on the porch, it's all the same to me
Some say it's two parts luck
And three parts time
I say it's five fingers of whiskey
I'll be busting up in the Ryman
Kicking out the lights
Selling out the Saturday nights
Resuming all my rights
And recording over all of their reels
I'm the rural deal
Outstanding in my field
I got a yard full of old junk cars
I got a heart of steel
I got a Colt .45
And old hound dog
I like them outlaw women
Sometimes they ride along
I had a friend named Bubba
But he went all gone on the pills
And that's the rural deal
♪
Alright