Prompt / Lyrics
[Chorus] Yeah we ride like that, big smoke in the back, Country boy steppin’ with a trunk full of stacks. Every damn day it’s the grind, no slack— I’m built from the mud, whole world on my back. Keep a bag on me (bag on me), hustle never lonely, High grade pack got me feelin’ like I’m floatin’. If you talkin’ pressure, boy I’m already on it— I’m the storm in the South, everybody hear me comin’. [Verse 1] Steel-toed boots, big dreams, no sleep, Woke up in the dirt so the climb ain’t cheap. Puffin’ that green while I chase that cream, Life hit hard but it ain’t break me. Got weight on my shoulders but I lift like a beast, Work all week then we feast, no least. Pockets on swole, let the money increase— Country-line roots with a trap-house speech. Slide through the block with the bass on boom, Smoke rollin’ out like a freight train plume. Say I won’t win? Buddy, that’s old news— I’m the type to turn a deadline into a debut. Ain’t no cap, ain’t no frontin’, My whole damn life been about somethin’. Take one hit and your chest start thumpin’— Big smoke only, lungs stay jumpin’. [Chorus] Yeah we ride like that, big smoke in the back, Country boy steppin’ with a trunk full of stacks. Every damn day it’s the grind, no slack— I’m built from the mud, whole world on my back. Keep a bag on me (bag on me), hustle never lonely, High grade pack got me feelin’ like I’m floatin’. If you talkin’ pressure, boy I’m already on it— I’m the storm in the South, everybody hear me comin’. [Verse 2] Got a jar full of loud and a mind full of goals, Every setback hittin’ just made me bold. Ten toes down, that’s the life I chose— Gotta stack every bill till the wallet can’t close. Smoke clouds lookin’ like a cotton-field sky, And the grind hit deep like a bassline drive. Ain’t nobody in my lane, I define my stride— Put the South on my back and the hustle in my eyes. Walk with a grin ‘cause I know what I earned, Every bridge that burned taught me how to turn. Heart made of leather and a spirit that’s firm— I ain’t scared of the fire, I was raised in the burn. Money on the table, I collect that fast, Grind all day, let the weekend blast. Smoke so strong you can smell my past— Ain’t nothin’ in my life ever built to last (except the bag). [Chorus] Yeah we ride like that, big smoke in the back, Country boy steppin’ with a trunk full of stacks. Every damn day it’s the grind, no slack— I’m built from the mud, whole world on my back. Keep a bag on me (bag on me), hustle never lonely, High grade pack got me feelin’ like I’m floatin’. If you talkin’ pressure, boy I’m already on it— I’m the storm in the South, everybody hear me comin’. [Outro] From the fields to the block, from the block to the stage, I hustle every minute, I ain’t wastin’ no days. Roll a blunt, say a prayer, then I step in the maze— Another bag secured, another night we blaze.
Tags
Hip hop, country rap, southern hip hop, trap, energetic, hard, vibey, heavy bass, bouncy
Duration
2:24
Instrumental
No
Created
11/21/2025