you can bet he's pickin' up some pretty country thing
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 a twelve pack's in the passenger seat
he probably worked his ass off all week
somewhere way out there in any given town
and blue collared drivin' his around
turnin' heads and burnin' tread and stirrin' up dust clouds
like a shine-haulin' outlaw
the stickers on his glass
it's true you can't judge
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 amazin' grace a time or two
if there's numbers on the back
bet there's stories 'bout his best friend that he can barely tell
'cause he misses him like hell
somewhere way out there in any given town
and blue collared drivin' his around
turnin' heads and burnin' tread and stirrin' up dust clouds
like a shine-haulin' outlaw
the stickers on his glass
it's true you can't judge
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 a twelve pack's in the passenger seat
he probably worked his ass off all week
somewhere way out there in any given town
and blue collared drivin' his around
turnin' heads and burnin' tread and stirrin' up dust clouds
like a shine-haulin' outlaw
the stickers on his glass
it's true you can't judge
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)
you can judge a country boy by his truck
but you can judge a country boy by his truck