Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Mud on my boots, call it backwoods pain Trailer park mail, same past-due stain Mama work doubles, daddy broke his back Still they say I’m “privileged” ‘cause my skin ain’t black Grew up on coupons, ramen on the stove Court date, tow truck, “boy you gotta tow the load” Turn on the news, they profit off the hurt Every headline gasoline on dirt [Chorus] I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt Bleed red like you do when the pain works All of us broke, but they paint us as the main curse I just want truth, they just want blame first White boy in the same fight, same night Tryna feed my fam, keep the flame bright I say all lives, they twisting up the same words I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt (yeah) [Verse 2] They point at my face, say I’m part of the plan Like I drew the map, like I own this land I just punch that clock, hope the truck don’t die Pray the kids eat good, keep the bills half-paid, alright I ain’t hating on you, don’t be hating on me We both stuck deep in the same broke sea But they stir that pot, keep the phone screens hot While we curse each other in the Walmart lot [Chorus] I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt Bleed red like you do when the pain works All of us broke, but they paint us as the main curse I just want truth, they just want blame first White boy in the same fight, same night Tryna feed my fam, keep the flame bright I say all lives, they twisting up the same words I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt (oh) [Bridge] Ain’t your enemy, I’m just tired of the baiting They sell us outrage, profit off the hating Look me in the eyes, tell me we ain’t kin Same cheap beer, same worn-out skin If we all stand up, they can’t sell the lie Can’t sell that script where we divide From the backroad fields to the city blocks We all got chains they don’t want unlocked [Chorus] I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt Bleed red like you do when the pain works All of us broke, but they paint us as the main curse I just want truth, they just want blame first White boy in the same fight, same night Tryna feed my fam, keep the flame bright I say all lives, they twisting up the same words I’m a white boy in the same dirt, same hurt
Tags
rap, Dark trap-country hybrid with male vocals; twangy slide guitar loop over 808s and sparse piano hits. Verses rap with a tight, tense flow; hook widens with stacked chant vocals and a simple, stomping rhythm. Gritty, front-of-mix lead, subtle choir pads in the chorus to give a defiant, anthemic lift., country, hip hop
Duration
3:14
Instrumental
No
Created
3/24/2026