"Here's a song about every cowboy's real first love.
It's not his horse, it's not his girl, and it's not his pick-up truck.
Where have I heard that before?
I sing this song a little different everywhere I go.
This is the way them old boys down in Texas like to hear it."

I was born and raised way out west
But the thing I love 'bout livin' here best
It ain't the mountains, the valleys, the hats, or the boots
It's havin' plenty of guns and something to shoot

We got shotguns and sixguns, we got a shipload of guns
Shootin varments and critters, is a shitload of fun
I don't care about the money, I don't care about the loot
Give me Jack Daniel's whiskey and something to shoot

Now there's a whole herd of elk, right there in a line
But it's a pain in the ass to shoot 'em one at a time
And I'm way below quota; I've had a bad day
Boy what I wouldn't give for just one hand grenade

I don't care about the future, I don't care about the past
As long as I've got some creatures to blast
We got deer, we got elk, we got ol' owls that hoot
And when I've killed them all, they'll be Yankees to shoot

Don' 'cha tailgate me son get off my back
I gotta thirty-ought-six right here in the rack
And this ain't New Jeresy; We don't honk, we don't yell
And if you touch that bumper I'll blow you to hell

"Everybody sing a long with me now"
I was born and raised way out west
And the thing like 'bout livin' here best
It ain't the mountains, the valleys, the hats, or the boots

It's havin' plenty of guns and something to shoot
It's havin' plenty of guns and something to shoot

Writer : WALKER, JERRY JEFF / WALL, CHRIS
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.