Artist: Chris Loid
[INTRO]
[G] [C] [G] [C]
[VERSE 1]
I might l[G]ook a little rough. I might l[C]ook a little mean. I might dr[G]ive an old truck and burn a [D]lot of gasoline.
Somet[G]imes I’m stubborn. Somet[C]imes I wanna fight. Sometimes I’m w[G]rong, but I [D]still think I’m r[G]ight.
Well I d[Em]on’t back down. I never t[C]urn and run. I lo[Em]ve my country and I’m proud to be her s[D]on.
Some call me a r[G]edneck, a rough neck, they call me a [C]hick.
But I’m just a [G]back country river [D]boy, a son of the sti[G]cks.
[CHORUS 1]
F[D]ishin’, lovin’, drinkin’, fightin’, w[C]orkin’, searchin’,[G] still surviving.
M[D]omma’s prayin’ I’m still playin’, g[C]etting’ older b[G]ut I’m changing.
I m[Em]ay be cussin’, I may be bleeding, but [C]God knows exactly how I’m feelin’.
It d[Em]on’t take much to make me happy, to f[D]eel a little rich.
I’m just a b[C]ack country river [D]boy, a son of the st[G]icks[C] . [G] [C]
[VERSE 2]
Well, I’ve g[G]ot good friends. And I’ve g[C]ot big tires. I don’t c[G]hase the wind, and I d[D]on’t like liars.
I like s[G]leeping outside, b[C]urning campfires. C[G]razy women and a [D]good old fashioned church c[G]hoir.
I might s[Em]ing a song, sweet b[C]y and by. I might st[Em]umble upon a memory that’ll bring a t[D]ear to my eye.
Some call me a re[G]dneck, a rough neck, they call me a h[C]ick.
But I’m just a b[G]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the st[G]ick.
[CHORUS 2]
[D]Fishin’, lovin’, drinkin’, fightin’, w[C]orkin’, searchin’, [G]still surviving.
M[D]omma’s prayin’ I’m still playin’, g[C]etting’ older b[G]ut I’m changing.
I m[Em]ay be cussin’, I may be bleeding, but G[C]od knows exactly how I’m feelin’.
It d[Em]on’t take much to make me happy, to [D]feel a little rich.
I’m just a b[C]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the sti[G]cks.[C]
[OUTRO]
I’m just a back c[G]ountry river b[D]oy, a son of the st[G]icks.
I’m just a b[G]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the stic[C]ks.[G/B] [Am] [G]
[G] [C] [G] [C]
[VERSE 1]
I might l[G]ook a little rough. I might l[C]ook a little mean. I might dr[G]ive an old truck and burn a [D]lot of gasoline.
Somet[G]imes I’m stubborn. Somet[C]imes I wanna fight. Sometimes I’m w[G]rong, but I [D]still think I’m r[G]ight.
Well I d[Em]on’t back down. I never t[C]urn and run. I lo[Em]ve my country and I’m proud to be her s[D]on.
Some call me a r[G]edneck, a rough neck, they call me a [C]hick.
But I’m just a [G]back country river [D]boy, a son of the sti[G]cks.
[CHORUS 1]
F[D]ishin’, lovin’, drinkin’, fightin’, w[C]orkin’, searchin’,[G] still surviving.
M[D]omma’s prayin’ I’m still playin’, g[C]etting’ older b[G]ut I’m changing.
I m[Em]ay be cussin’, I may be bleeding, but [C]God knows exactly how I’m feelin’.
It d[Em]on’t take much to make me happy, to f[D]eel a little rich.
I’m just a b[C]ack country river [D]boy, a son of the st[G]icks[C] . [G] [C]
[VERSE 2]
Well, I’ve g[G]ot good friends. And I’ve g[C]ot big tires. I don’t c[G]hase the wind, and I d[D]on’t like liars.
I like s[G]leeping outside, b[C]urning campfires. C[G]razy women and a [D]good old fashioned church c[G]hoir.
I might s[Em]ing a song, sweet b[C]y and by. I might st[Em]umble upon a memory that’ll bring a t[D]ear to my eye.
Some call me a re[G]dneck, a rough neck, they call me a h[C]ick.
But I’m just a b[G]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the st[G]ick.
[CHORUS 2]
[D]Fishin’, lovin’, drinkin’, fightin’, w[C]orkin’, searchin’, [G]still surviving.
M[D]omma’s prayin’ I’m still playin’, g[C]etting’ older b[G]ut I’m changing.
I m[Em]ay be cussin’, I may be bleeding, but G[C]od knows exactly how I’m feelin’.
It d[Em]on’t take much to make me happy, to [D]feel a little rich.
I’m just a b[C]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the sti[G]cks.[C]
[OUTRO]
I’m just a back c[G]ountry river b[D]oy, a son of the st[G]icks.
I’m just a b[G]ack country river b[D]oy, a son of the stic[C]ks.[G/B] [Am] [G]
Used chords
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