I'm proud to be a farmer's son
Brought up on the Good Book and a gun
I could stretch you a mile of barbed wire in the Alabama sun
A product of red dirt dust and raised on rust
Still drive my grandpa's old pickup truck
Takes an extra couple cranks just to fire her up
Come harvest season that wheat'll beat your feet through the holes in the floor but
We didn't mind, naw we got by, we were raised on rust
We never had a nickel to our family name
We made do with worn out boots and the first coat of paint
Made me rough around the edges, made me John Wayne tough
I was born in the country and raised on rust
Might be forgotten but we ain't gone
We're the backbone, this country's heart and soul
We fight your wars, we fill your stores, and we don't ask for much
Just respect for those of us who were raised on rust
We never had a nickel to our family name
We made do with worn out boots and the first coat of paint
Might be rough around the edges, but we're dang proud of
Being born in the country and raised on rust
Raised on Rust
We never had a nickel to our family name
We made do with worn out boots and the first coat of paint
Might be rough around the edges, but we're dang proud of
Being born in the country and raised on rust
I was born in the country and raised on rust
Yeah, yeah
I was born in the country and raised on rust
