Don't you dare go runnin' down my little town where I grew up
And I won't cuss your city lights
If you ain't ever took a ride around
And cruised right through the heart of my town
Anything you say would be a lie
We may live our lives a little slower
But that don't mean
I wouldn't be proud to show ya
Where I come from
There's an old ply boy out turning up dirt
Where I come from
There's a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
Where I come from
Well, a couple of boys fight in the parking lot
No, nobody's gonna call the cops
Where I come from
See that door right there, man I swear
It ain't never been locked
And I can tell you that it never will
That old man right there in the rocking chair
At the courthouse square I'll tell you now
He could buy your fancy car with hundred dollar bills
Don't let those faded overalls fool ya
He made his bands without one day of schoolin'
Where I come from
There's a pickup truck with the tailgate down
Where I come from
The pine trees are singing a song of the south
Where I come from
That little white church is gonna have a crowd
Yeah, I'm pretty damn proud
Of where I come from
Where I come from
There's a big ole' moon shining down at night
Where I come from
There's a man done wrong gonna make it right
Where I come from
There's an old ply boy out turning up dirt
Where I come from
There's a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
Where I come from
When a couple of boys
Fight in the parking lot
No, ain't nobody gonna call the cops
Yeah, that river runs
Across that Oakland rock
Where I come from
Where I come from
Writer(s): Dallas Davidson, Rodney Clawson
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