

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Michelob sweating on the table Mud on my boots, boat still by the ramp Old ice chest full of red gold crawling Uncle’s bare hands, that man don’t cramp He twist that tail, crack that shell Throws the heads in a pile, says “son, go ahead” Steam in the air, that backyard blessing I’m sucking that spice till my lips turn red (oh yeah) [Chorus] We got crawdads crackin’, heads get sucked Corn get slapped with the butter all stuck Tators in the pot, that Cajun thunder rolls Smoke in my clothes, hot in my nose Give me one more boil and a box of those Michelob’s cold on my soul [Verse 2] Paper plate bowin’ in the middle Spice ring burning where my fingers been Grandma’s laughing at the way I’m coughing “Boy, that’s flavor, don’t call it sin” Baby girl licking juice off her wrist Hot sauce kiss when she leans on in Radio crooked on a rusty tailgate Two-step wobble, we spin and spin (hey!) [Chorus] We got crawdads crackin’, heads get sucked Corn get slapped with the butter all stuck Tators in the pot, that Cajun thunder rolls Smoke in my clothes, hot in my nose Give me one more boil and a box of those Michelob’s cold on my soul [Bridge] Sun going down, but the pot still singin’ Moon coming up, and the bugs all high If heaven got a ditch and a cypress shadow I hope they got this kind of Saturday night [Chorus] We got crawdads crackin’, heads get sucked Corn get slapped with the butter all stuck Tators in the pot, that Cajun thunder rolls Smoke in my clothes, hot in my nose Give me one more boil and a box of those Michelob’s cold on my soul
Tags
country, Rowdy Cajun-country bar jam: male vocals over twangy Telecaster, shuffling backbeat, and upright bass. Verses stay loose and talky with porch-swing swagger; chorus jumps with gang shouts, stomps, and handclaps. Fiddle and harmonica trade licks on short turnarounds, big sing-along hook for a tipsy crowd., cajun
2:30
No
3/21/2026