She's pony-tailed, and she's halter-topped Her bumber sticker says "I hate hip-hop" With a southern drawl, she says howdy y'all And her hands ain't afraid of dirt He's proud of his old truck He spray painted over dnets and rust The moto smokes, it's got four bald tires, but the radio works Raised ont he good book, and out country songs Ride down back roads singing along [Chorus:]So blame me for the way the are Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar Blame me for their cowboy hats Roper boots, wrangler jeans, and rifle racks If you wanna point a finger at somebody for they way they believe Blame me They were kids when Hag and me came to town All eyes and ears, look at 'em now Cneter stage on the Grand Ole Opry on a Saturday night Sing about fishin' and the Lord above Fallin' in and out of love From Aunt Bea to Uncle Sam and the American pie From big cities to little towns We're hard core country inside and out