A hand-me-down F-150 Might not be the tank you empty
Burning gasoline The day you turn sixteen
And just because dusty boots And camouflage are in your roots
Don't mean you ever gotta wear 'em If that ain't you, I don't care
* Yeah, I used to love to sling that dirt up down them rural routes
But God might have a different map dot planned for you mapped out
** So what if you don't stick around this little town that raised you
So what if you don't cut your teeth on Jr., Jones, and Waylon
Now it might work out That you don't turn out anything like me
But I'll love whoever you turn out to be
What if you picked up a canvas And you just up and single-handed
Painted scenes the world ain't ever seen? Oh, maybe you were made for something
Me and your mama don't see coming You ain't gotta know right now
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