Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Copper pot sweatin on a cinderblock stand Barrels of mash out back by the van Granddad’s recipe, passed hand to hand Pitchin that yeast like a Bible in the sand Black smoke curlin through the tall pine tops Headlights kill when the blue light pops Truck bed rattlin, jars in a box Heartbeat hittin like a hammer on a lock [Chorus] We bootleggin shine Backwoods 180 proof Deep in the woods where they won’t find truth Don’t want them fake Walmart jars on the shelf We cook it in the dark, keep it all to ourselves We bootleggin shine Copper burnin through the night If the law come lookin, then we cut those lights Backroad dust, that outlaw juice Backwoods, 180 proof (hey!) [Verse 2] Game warden cousin, he don’t say a thing Cash in the glovebox, wrapped in a ring Radio low, hear a tree frog sing Til a siren wails like a busted string Gearshift slam, hit the logging road quick Mud so thick, make the tailgate kick Drop that stash in a creekside ditch Circle back later, pull it out, get rich [Chorus] We bootleggin shine Backwoods 180 proof Deep in the woods where they won’t find truth Don’t want them fake Walmart jars on the shelf We cook it in the dark, keep it all to ourselves We bootleggin shine Copper burnin through the night If the law come lookin, then we cut those lights Backroad dust, that outlaw juice Backwoods, 180 proof (oh yeah) [Bridge] If you sip it and your knees don’t shake Turn that truck around, that’s store-bought fake This here fire’ll make a sinner pray One small jar take your breath away [Chorus] We bootleggin shine Backwoods 180 proof Deep in the woods where they won’t find truth Don’t want them fake Walmart jars on the shelf We cook it in the dark, keep it all to ourselves We bootleggin shine Copper burnin through the night If the law come lookin, then we cut those lights Backroad dust, that outlaw juice Backwoods, 180 proof
Tags
rap, Gritty country-trap beat with twangy slide guitar and chunky acoustic strums, male vocals. Verses sit in a laid-back storytelling flow, then choruses hit with a half-time stomp, gang vocals, and stacked harmonies. Sub-bass locks with a chesty kick, snare snaps cut through, and a dusty fiddle lick answers key lines. Energy ramps from low-lit menace to rowdy, shout-along pride by the final hook., country, fake, deep
Duration
2:44
Instrumental
No
Created
2/3/2026