TRUCK - Hardy

If it’s cleaned up, shined up, pedal down on Main

You can bet he’s pickin' up some pretty country thang

If it’s covered up in red mud with a worn-out Warn winch

There’s a good chance that that man is a pretty damn good friend

If there’s horns in the back

There’s a gun in the front

If there’s dents on the side

He ain’t scared of nothin'

And if the 12-pack's in the passenger seat

Well he probably worked his ass off all week

Yeah, somewhere way out there in any given town

There’s a red, white, and blue collar drivin' his around

Turnin' heads, and burnin' tread, and stirrin' up dust clouds

Like a shine haulin' outlaw

Yeah, I’m talkin' 'bout his truck

His dash

The county on his tag

The songs on his radio

The stickers on his glass

From four bars to two bars

It’s true you can’t judge

A book by its cover

But you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there’s a silver cross hangin' off his dusty old rearview

It’s safe to say he’s found Amazing Grace a time or two

If there’s numbers on the back '92 to 2012

Bet this story’s about his best friend that he can barely tell

'Cause he misses him like hell

Somewhere way out there in any given town

There’s a red, white, and blue collar drivin' his around

Turnin' heads, and burnin' tread, and stirrin' up dust clouds

Like a shine haulin' outlaw

Yeah, I’m talkin' 'bout his truck

His dash

The county on his tag

The songs on his radio

The stickers on his glass

From four bars to two bars

It’s true you can’t judge

A book by its cover

But you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there’s horns in the back

There’s a gun in the front

If there’s dents on the side

He ain’t scared of nothin'

And if the 12-pack's in the passenger seat

Yeah, well he probably worked his ass off all week

Yeah, somewhere way out there in any given town

There’s a red, white, and blue collar drivin' his around

Turnin' heads, and burnin' tread, and stirrin' up dust clouds

Like a shine haulin' outlaw

Yeah, I’m talkin' 'bout his truck

His dash

The county on his tag

The songs on his radio

The stickers on his glass

From four bars to two bars

It’s true you can’t judge

A book by its cover

But you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there’s horns in the back

There’s a gun in the front

If there’s dents on the side

Yeah, you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there’s horns in the back

There’s a gun in the front

You can’t judge a book by its cover

But you can judge a country boy by his truck