Intro:

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Straight out of Nashville, here’s your next big star

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He don’t write the songs he sings, but he knows the words by heart.

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Wears a cowboy hat, and some tight blue jeans,

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And he struts around the stage like he’s the coolest thing you’ve ever seen.

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                       Oh you gotta love him!


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He looks like a super model, knows how to strike a pose

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And he don’t mind the make up as long as no one knows.

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And he’s got that crooked grin, and talks with a southern drawl,

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Acts like Toby Keith but sounds a lot like Tim McGraw

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But if he’s country ill kiss your ass,

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And throw all my Willie Nelson records in the trash.

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He’s the same old shit in a slightly different bag,

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But if he’s country, well then country’s pretty bad.

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I don’t watch CMT

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No that shit makes me sick.

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And that ole Kenny Chesney,

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What a hypocrite.

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Hell swear he’s country

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But he lives in the Caribbean.

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Sings all about the islands now, 

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What happened to the Tennessean?

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Aw if he’s country ill kiss your ass

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Throw all my Johnny cash records in the trash

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He’s all about image cause image pays the bucks,

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Aw but if he’s country, well then country really sucks.

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What happened to the outlaws?

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Who weren’t afraid to cross the line?

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What happened to the workin man?


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Who sang the truth about their troubled lives?

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I was raised in Georgia, in a one red light town.

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And my daddy picked guitar in every honky tonk around

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And he taught me all the good stuff,

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That solid country gold, but now I love it all from hip-hop to rock and roll

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And if that ain’t country, well I don’t give a damn

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My daddy to be my own kinda man

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He said son you don’t have to go along with the crowd aw

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So if I ain’t Country then im pretty frikin proud

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Oh well I don’t need their labels anyhow