A lot of people told me I was picked ‘fore I got ripe
A winter apple picked before it falls
But even as a young girl, I was not the bashful type
‘Cause I could yell the loudest of them all

I’m little, but I’m loud
I’m poor, but I’m pround
I’m countrified and I don’t care who knows it
I’m like a banty rooster, in a big old rooster crowd
I’m puny, short and little, but I’m proud

I learned to do my singin’ walkin’ ‘long behind a plough
The singin’ teachers always passed me by
And so I have to sing the only way that I know how
Just lean back, open up and let ‘er fly

I’m little, but I’m loud
I’m poor, but I’m pround
I’m countrified and I don’t care who knows it
I’m like a banty rooster, in a big old rooster crowd
I’m puny, short and little, but I’m proud