More Country Than You

You know folks say I'm the countriest person I know

Oh, really? honey those folks are wrong

Well, I can stack bales of hay

In a barn loft all day long

I can grab my ol' guitar

And sing you a Bocephus song

I wear a Bass Pro hat

I like a Copenhagen chew

Girl, I think I'm a little more country than you

Well, I can bait my own hook

Put up my own dear stand

I squirrel my cash away

In a coffee can

My pair of Lucchese boots

Know how to boot-scoot

Boy, I think I'm a little more country than you

That blue moon shines on my old Kentucky home

Aw, but rocky top is the countriest song I know

I grew up on a farm

So what? I got a rooster in my yard

I think, I think I'm a little more country than you

I got a four by four

I can drop a tailgate

I speak fluent southern

Now don't you tell me I can't

I make biscuits and gravy

Not like my mama can do (ah, well, your mama wishes)

I think, well, I think I'm a little more country than you

That blue moon shines on my old Kentucky home

Aw, but rocky top is the countriest song I know

I grew up on a farm

I got a rooster in my yard

I think, I think I'm a little more country than you

Well, honey you just think whatever you think

Huh, well, I think, that I know the truth

I think, I think I'm a little more country than you

Now don't go again, Emily Ann

I know I'm more country than you are

You ain't countrier than me anytime I'm fit in blue jeans Hoss

Well, Hoss is let me tell you

You can't even spell country

No, I can too

K-U-N-T-R-Y

Aw, Lord have mercy

I think, I think I'm a little more country than you