Boxcar Cowboy

I don’t clock in—I roll in.

Where they need me… that’s where I be.

I’m the Gulf Coast Cowboy.

Blue-collar motion, make the whole town move,

I go where they need me—anytime, any route.

Boxcar life, let the smoke roll out,

Diesel and steel with a payday mouth.

Say it loud—who you think you are, boy?

I’m the Gulf Coast Cowboy.

Hard hat, hood down, sparks in the dark,

Beads so clean leave a signature mark.

Plant gate callin’, “We need you now,”

I pull up quick like “Point me out.”

Toolbox heavy, road-map mind,

Sunrise weld to a midnight grind.

No stage lights, still stand proud—

Work boots rapper, Gulf Coast loud.

Get friendly with the prettiest preoladys—porch-light glow,

Two-step close, but I never move slow.

When last call fades and the jukebox through,

I tip my hat—road’s the only love I knew.

If the country’s a locomotive, I’m the bolt that keeps it tight.

Blue-collar money, make the whole crowd move,

Coast to coast, I don’t sit—I move.

Keep America runnin’, smoke roll out,

I’m the Gulf Coast Cowboy—say it loud.

Same hat, same hands… different town tomorrow.