Am What I Am

I don't hang with snowflakes, big fakes or suck-ups I roll with the gangsters, rednecks and fuck-ups Dropping them caddies and jacking them trucks up Hunting and fishing, you know what's up Hanging these bucks up, straight Boone and Crockett Rocking the mic just like white chocolate Been in the game since we was flipping cassettes And you still ain't met a motherfucker like me yet, huh I was born in the country I grew up in the streets I got down in old Detroit Raised some hell in Tennessee Praise the Lord every Sunday Couldn't care less what people think "Yes, sir, yes ma'am", a sinner, a saint I am what I am, I ain't what I ain't (I am what I am) damn, it feels good Damn it feels good I like truck stop chicken, pickles and french fries All kinds of women, skinny or thick thighs No mirage, baby, open your eyes I got a camouflaged double wide up on the hillside So fly you could call me the fliest So high you could call me your highness So what if I'm over the hill? Come on Say I won't, 'cause motherfucker, I will I was born in the country I grew up in the streets I got down in old Detroit Raised some hell in Tennessee Praise the Lord every Sunday Couldn't care less what people think "Yes sir, yes ma'am," a sinner, a saint I am what I am, I ain't what I ain't I was born in the country I grew up in the streets I got down in old Detroit Raised some hell in Tennessee I was born in the country I grew up in the streets I got down in old Detroit Raised some hell in Tennessee Praise the Lord every Sunday Couldn't care less what people think "Yes, sir, yes, ma'am", a sinner, a saint I am what I am, I ain't what I ain't I am what I am, I ain't what I ain't Damn, it feels good I am what I am, I ain't what I ain't Damn, it feels good --- Am What I Am - Kid Rock