| A | D | A | D | |
| I know where I come | from, how bout | you |
| A | D | A | D | |
| I don't | need baggy clothes or | rings in my nose to be | cool |
| A | D | A | D | |
| The | scars on my knuckles match the | scuffs on these cowboy | boots |
| A | D | A | |
| And | there's a whole lot more like | me, how bout | you |
| I punch the clock tryin to make it to the top...How bout you? |
| I ain't got no blue blood trust fund I can dip into. |
| Yeah I wish uncle Sam would dive a damn about the man whose collar is blue. |
| But if he don't hell i'll make it on my own...How bout you? |
| Chorus: |
| G | |
| How bout | you |
| D | A | |
| Do you feel the way I | do |
| G | D | A | |
| To tell the | truth | I think we're the chosen | few |
| G | D | A | |
| But that's just | me. | ..How bout | you |