Fort Worth ain’t Dallas

I ain't knockin' the skyline, but ours feels real,

We got stockyards, dive bars, boots made of steel.

We ain’t uptown brunch or valet curb,

We’re blue-jeans deep and built on dirt.

You want glitz, then drive east and fast,

But this town’s got soul that was made to last.

Fort Worth ain’t Dallas — don’t get it twisted,

We ain't pretty polished, we’re raw and gifted.

Where cattle still walk and legends sing,

Where a handshake still means everything.

We got grit, we got roots,

And we don’t ride in shiny suits.

So keep your skyline glass and palace...

'Cause Fort Worth ain’t Dallas.

We don’t need your downtown lights,

We got neon glow and rowdy nights.

We ride bulls, not Bentleys, son,

And we don’t run — we get stuff done.

Might not be first in your travel blog,

But we’re first to fight and last to talk.

Fort Worth ain’t Dallas — write it down,

This ain’t high-rise dreams, it’s a rodeo town.

Where the boots are worn and the beer runs cold,

Where the stories are tough and the hearts are bold.

We don’t flex — we show up and prove,

And we don’t care if we don’t fit your mood.

So tip your hat or face the callous...

'Cause Fort Worth ain’t Dallas.

We ain’t knockin’ Big D — it’s just a different lane.

But over here, we earn our name.

Fort Worth ain’t Dallas — and that’s just fine,

You take your skyline, we’ll take our spine.

Where the boots hit dust, not marble floors,

Where legends are born behind saloon doors.

So next time you compare our address...

Just know this ain’t north.

This is west.

And Fort Worth ain’t...

Never was Dallas.