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ole country boy - justin " hitman " ard lyrics

[chorus]

just and ole country boy, wear my hat to the back
with a double wide dream, a couple jail house tat’s
down an ol’ dirt road, where i paid my dues
i thank the lord that i’m breathing, and stevie ray for the blues
just an ole country boy, wear my hat to the back
if i said it then i meant it, i ain’t taking nothing back
had to get it out the mud, still got dirt on my boots
i’m workin’ hard for a livin’, and barely makin’ it through
[verse]

i’m workin’ hard for a livin’, tyrin’ to make ends meet
i grew up without a house, so i don’t sh*t where i sleep
i turned a dime into a dream, like a trailer park window
got it out the mud, better runin’ as your kin folk
hat to the back, with a double wide drеam
a couple jail house tat’s but you don’t see what i see
you ain’t walked in my shoеs, you can’t fit in my jeans
i gotta get it how i live it, thats a by any means
just an ole country boy, from a no name town
where the things we think were new, were really just hand me downs
we ain’t got a liquor store, so we makin’ our own
if you come well come correctly cause we more than a song
we ain’t casting a stone, we try to live by the book
i thank the lord that i’m breathing and for the fish on this hook
i’d give the shirt off my back, to anyone that really needs it
if i’m lyin’ then i’m dying, i’m still here to speak

[chorus]

just an ole country boy, wear my hat to the back
with a double wide dream, a couple jail house tat’s
down an ol’ dirt road, where i paid my dues
i thank the lord that i’m breathing, and stevie ray for the blues
just an ole country boy, wear my hat to the back
if i said it then i meant it, i ain’t taking nothing back
had to get it out the mud, still got dirt my boots
i’m workin’ hard for a livin’, and barely makin’ it through
[verse]

i like to call it how i see it, if i said it then i meant it
i’m below that mason dixon, running game this ain’t a scrimmage
every day is a different problem, every day is a different hustle
i was born to raise h*ll; momma should’ve named me troy
i like my seat laid back, while i’m takin’ it slow
i got a family full of felons that ain’t makin’ parole
they sold their sole to the devil, for a bag full of dope
now they calling home collect, praying we answer the phone
all of the dirt that i’ve done, i’ve learned to do on my own
if you never have a witness, who’s to say you were wrong
i’m a legend in the making, headed straight for the throne
she’s my little pride and joy, she was made from my bones
you better watch how you speak, you better lower your tone
before your last bowel movement is in a funeral home
i’m just a small town boy, who never changed his ways
workin’ from daylight to dark, for pocket lint and spare change

[chorus]

- justin hitman ard lyrics

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