Don’t you dare go running 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 plow boy out turning up dirt
Where I come from
There’s a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
Where I come from
Where a couple 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 guarantee 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 millions without one day 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
Where I come from

Where I come from
There’s a big old 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 plow boy out turning up dirt
Where I come from
There’s a preacher man in a cowboy shirt
Where I come from
Where a couple of boys fight in the parking lot no
Ain’t nobody’s 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
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Round Hill Music Big Loud Songs
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind