слова песни Florida Georgia Line - Dirt

You get your hands in it, plant your roots in it
Dusty headlight dance with your boots in it
You write her name on it, spin your tires on it
Build your corn field, whiskey bonfires on it
You bet your life on it

It's that elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed-up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post-game party field you circled up on
And when it rains you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
The mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a 10 percent down, white picket fence house on this dirt

You mix some sweat with it, taking a shovel to it
You stuck some crosses and some painted goal posts through it (damn)
You know you came from it (damn)
And someday you'll return to

This elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed-up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post-game party field you circled up on
And when it rains you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
The mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a 10 percent down, white picket fence house on this dirt

You know you came from it (damn)
And someday you'll return to

This elm shade, red rust clay you grew up on
That plowed-up ground that your dad damned his luck on
That post-game party field you circled up on
And when it rains you get stuck on
Drift a cloud back behind county roads that you run up
The mud on her jeans that she peeled off and hung up
Her blue-eyed summertime smile looks so good that it hurts
Makes you wanna build a 10 percent down, white picket fence house on this dirt

Makes you wanna build a 10 percent down, white picket fence house on this dirt

You know you came from it
And someday you'll return to it

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