They ask me why you wanna ride around in some old, beat-up truck
And why you wanna mix your Billy Strings and Thunderstruck
What's up with them old boots and all that natty light
And how come you go honky-tonkin' every Friday night

If you know, you know
If you don't, you don't
It's a country kind of thing that I just can't explain
You gotta feel it way down in your soul
If you know, you know

They ask me, "Why you got a flat pick on that old flat top guitar?
And why you gotta roll that smoky tip, that Mason Jar?
And why you puttin' all those miles on that old people bus?"
If they can't understand, yeah, then they ain't one of us

If you know, you know
If you don't, you don't
It's a country kind of thing that I just can't explain
You gotta feel it way down in your soul
If you know, you know (aw, here we go)

They ask us, "Why you gotta love them girls?"
They say, "hell yeah" and "y'all"
And what makes 'em so sexy comin' from a town that's small
And why you let 'em break your heart with just one little grin
Son, if you ever met one, you'd never ask again

If you know, you know
If you don't, you don't
It's a country kind of thing that I just can't explain
You gotta feel it way down in your soul
If you know, you know
If you know, you know

Mm, if you know, you know
That's right