The fake ones

James Shamblin spittin’, let it echo through the town,
West Union soil but I wear the crown.
Heard Ryan from the hills still talkin’ that thug,
Won’t throw hands, but he’ll steal your plug.

Hillbilly bandit with a Wi-Fi hustle,
All mouth online but allergic to muscle.
Talkin’ real tough from a porch swing throne,
But disappear quick when the bass get blown.

Mud on the boots, zero grind in the chest,
Actin’ outlaw but he scared of a test.
Steal this, steal that, call it “survive,”
But freeze up quick when it’s face to face time.

Run his mouth loud, never back it with action,
Internet gangster, no real traction.
When I glide past slow with the chrome on shine,
Ryan hit the house like it’s supper time.

⸻

Hook

Slide by smooth, candy paint drip,
Bass knock heavy make the fake ones dip.
Lowriders lined, yeah we rollin’ strong,
West Union pressure all night long.

No soft games, we don’t move like that,
Real ones stand, we don’t keyboard chat.
When the engine hum and the windows slide —
Watch loud boys run and hide.

⸻

Verse 2 – The Winchester One-Hit Wonder

Now over in Winchester, hear that echo?
“One-hit king” still livin’ on a demo.
Swear he California born and raised,
But Mississippi stamped in the way he phrase.

Palm tree dreams but you country bred,
Switch accents up like you switch your thread.
Throwin’ up West like you from the coast,
But your roots come out when you brag the most.

One lucky track and he think he legend,
Five years later still livin’ off the mention.
Still singin’ “because I got high… because I got high…”
Like that hook gon’ resurrect July.

Crowd half bored, other half scrollin’,
Replayin’ that chorus like time ain’t rollin’.
Say he God’s gift, heaven approved,
But even heaven like, “We already moved.”

Moved counties quick tryna live like a king,
Big talk throne but a paper crown ring.
Winchester laugh when he pass that stage,
Royalty dreams in a minimum wage.

⸻

Hook (Harder)

Slide by slow when the Dayton wires gleam,
Lowrider glide like a west coast dream.
Ryan duck quick, hit the hills,
One-hit wonder pop leftover pills —

Of ego and pride from a past-time glow,
But I drop fresh heat every time I flow.
West Union solid, we built like stone,
No rerun rappers sittin’ on a throne.

⸻

Verse 3 – James Shamblin Statement

I don’t gotta swing, my punchlines knock,
Egos fall when I open shop.
Metaphor fists, lyrical jab,
Competition shaky like a folding cab.

We don’t play pussy games round here at night,
Lowriders deep and the circle tight.
Chrome reflect when the streetlights hit,
Whole town know who legit.

Ryan talk loud but he backpedal fast,
Winchester star still stuck in the past.
One steal scraps, one steal fame,
Both get nervous when they hear my name.

James Shamblin voice in the Midwest air,
West Coast spirit but Ohio glare.
All satire smoke but the bars cut clean,
Lowrider pressure on a small-town scene.

⸻

Final Hook (Extended Ride Out)

Slide… glide… let the bassline ride,
Candy paint shimmer, watch ’em

rap west coast gangster