Outlaw Born

Yeah, you hear that?

That’s that backroad bass.

I’m talkin' John Deere dreams and 12-gauge grace.

Let’s go.

I was raised on grits, grease, and God’s good rain,

Where the dogs run wild and the trucks got stains.

Got a 30-06 in the gun rack restin’,

And a Bible on the dash — that’s a country-blessed weapon.

City boys laugh ‘til they stuck in the ditch,

While I pull 'em out slow with a chaw in my lip.

Got a flag on the porch, got a heart full of fight,

Ain’t scared of no man — we were born in the night.

Camo on my chest like it's Sunday best,

With a bottle of Beam and a heart unrest.

They say I changed since I hit that mic,

But the mud in my blood still stickin' just right.

You can’t take the country outta me, nah —

Boots stay muddy, soul stay raw.

Still ride with the dogs and the light bar on,

Still crack that can when the workday's gone.

Ain’t no shame in the way I live,

Got dirt in my veins, got nothin’ to give.

Try to run, but the roots too deep —

I’m the storm in the South with a fire you keep.

I talk slow, swing fast, don’t flinch, don’t fold,

Learned to fight with my fists, now my words go gold.

Raised by the code — respect or wreck,

And I still say “sir” with a knife to your neck.

Bonfires lit with the old pine wood,

Got a crew full of outlaws misunderstood.

We don't flex, we just show up strong,

With a skull ring shine and a Hank Jr. song.

I’m the shotgun sermon on a Saturday night,

Got scars on my soul but my aim still right.

From the fields to the mic, I’m the same ol' beast —

Ain’t nothin' real slick ‘bout a man like me.

You can’t take the country outta me, nah —

Boots stay muddy, soul stay raw.

Still ride with the dogs and the light bar on,

Still crack that can when the workday's gone.

Ain’t no shame in the way I live,

Got dirt in my veins, got nothin’ to give.

Try to run, but the roots too deep —

I’m the storm in the South with a fire you keep.

I don’t wear gold — I wear scars.

My grill is a smoker. My stage is a barn.

You call it redneck — I call it free.

Try takin’ the country outta me? Good luck, G.

You can’t take the country outta me, nah —

Cornbread fed and I stand by Ma.

Still shoot straight, still speak my name,

Still hold down folks who do the same.

Ain’t no suit gonna cage this soul,

I was born in the sticks with a heart made cold.

Y’all ride trends — I ride chrome,

And I ain’t leavin’ country — I’m bringin’ it home.