[Verse 1]
From forty K, it’s a patchwork sprawl,
Corn stalks swayin’ where swirling winds call.
You think it’s nowhere, just iron and rust,
These backroads bleed with a rebel’s trust.
You mock our trucks, our barns all worn,
Think we’re stuck where the past was born.
While you’re sippin’ brews by the ocean’s roar,
We’re making hay, and we’re ready for more.

[Chorus]
Keep your head in the clouds, you city fool,
We’re plowin’ this earth, we’re keepin’ it cool.
We’re the pulse that pumps red, white, and blue blood.
From Dakota plains, to ‘Bama mud.
Every burger you chow, every whiskey you slam,
Comes from the scars of our bloodied hands.
So jet on back to your high-rise glow,
We’re Flyover states, you’ll never, effin know.

[Verse 2]
We ain’t one mold, no single track,
Got hearts for all, from white to black.
Our towns ain’t dead, they hum and thrive,
Where grit and dreams keep hope alive.
Think we’re cut off and lost in the fray?
Our Wi-Fi’s blazin’ every night and day.
From diner booths to the open range,
We’re writin’ our stories cause it’s time for change.

[Chorus 2]
Keep your head in the clouds, you city fools,
We’re plowin’ this earth, we’re keepin’ it cool.
We’re the pulse that pumps red, white, and blue blood.
From Kansas hills to ‘Tucky woods.
Every burger you chow, every whiskey you slam,
Comes from the scars of our bloodied hands.
So jet on back to your high-rise glow,
We’re Flyover states, you’ll never, effin know.

[Rap]
Backwoods hicks? Nah, that’s a lie,
We got GPS Deers ‘neath satellite skies.
Turnin’ cobs to fire and fields to gold,
Buildin’ our future from stories untold.

[Chorus]
Keep your head in the clouds, you city clowns,
We’re the heart of’ this land, and we won’t back down.
We’re the soul that feeds, this country’s core,
From Sooner clay to Ohio’s roar.
Every steak you grill, every beer you drain,
From hands that are breakin’ every chain.
So jet on back to your high-rise glow,
We’re Flyover states, you’ll never, effin know.

[Outro]
Next time you’re cruisin’ coast to coast,
Here’s one thing that matters the most.
If you think we’re nothing but backwoods flakes,
We’re more than just the Fly Over States.