She was born out in the sticks, in the drought of 76, pulled the wings off bugs for kicks.Learned to drive in a beat-up ****, shotgun and an old bashed hat, chasing roos and razorback, she's country.If you look you in the eye, work all day and dance all night, drag the whole bar dry.Hot days you can find her there, lying by the lake and she don't care, wearing nothing but her long dark hair, she's country.She's country certified.Country till the day she dies, she's country, born in bed, she's country as it gets.Grew up fast in 89, helped a mom keep the farm alive.The year her daddy died, put a roof on the old hay shed, fixed a truck when it blew her head, hung in when she was over it, she's country.She's country certified.Country till the day she dies.She's country.Born in bed.Story of my soul.Born in bed.Born in bed.Born in bed.Born in bed.Born in bed.Born in bed.Born in bed.She was born out in the sticksIn the drought of 76She'll never call it quitsShe's country certifiedShe's country till the day she diesShe's country born and bredShe's country certifiedShe's country till the day she diesShe's country born and bredShe's country as it getsYes she isLike you expect