Raised on Rust

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