Music Video

Standard American
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gunnar & The Grizzly Boys
Gunnar & The Grizzly Boys
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Chris Newburg
Chris Newburg
Composer
Gunner Nyblad
Gunner Nyblad
Composer
Joe Rood
Joe Rood
Composer
Rob Mason
Rob Mason
Composer

Lyrics

He killed what he ate and brewed what he drank Listened to Colt, Jerry, Reid and Hank A bear of a man, hardly left the woods Six foot four, solid rock when he stood He'd hunt with a hatchet and his own bare hands Refused welfare, only lived off the land Drove an 87 Dodge, straight pipes off the back Stocked his house with white-tail racks He's a rebel, a redneck, grew up in the sticks A standard American son'bitch His shirt says Ralph but his real name's Fred Got grease on his hands and sweat on his head Pants oiled black and arms are scarred Knuckles more busted than his credit card Spends weekdays working under the hood Got mouths to feed and he knows he should Come Friday at five he'll collect that pay Top it off with a cold one at the end of the day He's blue-collar, a sinner, I can't decide which A standard American son'bitch He drives a Peterbilt with 18 wheels The ICC hot on his heels Running them roads since age 18 Ain't a city limit sign that he hasn't seen Grinding them gears, heading down the line He's a slave to the law, the law and time Make it home for two-day's sleep Then it's back to his cockpit and Air Ride seat He's a driver, a highway man Loves his woman and two kids A standard American son'bitch He ain't heard too good since 67 Flew a chopper nick named The Stairway To Heaven Got an M16, hacks up black tar Vietnam plates on the back of his car He don't talk too much and he don't waste words When he does, you damn sure better know he's heard A ponytail, little thin up top Rolls his own for ten cents a pop He's a soldier, a veteran, beat up a bitch A standard American son'bitch You can call me a redneck, call me a hick Say I'm a drunk, messed up just a bit But the flag I fly's got the stars and stripes Test my freedom, I'll be down for a fight We're the backbone, blue collar Working, trying to earn a dollar Hurt somebody, feeds our kids Standard American son'bitch Country boy survive Mess with my family, I'll cut you and gut you and tie your hide Set you on fire and watch you burn alive
Writer(s): Robert Mason, Matthew Carey, Charles Christopher Newberg, Gunnar Louis Nyblad, Joseph Michael Rood, Robert Trent Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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