[Intro] Sun up, boots on Last one leavin' that field, I'm him (yeah) Truck bed muddy like my Friday plans Punch in, then we punch that can (hey!) [Verse 1] Steel toes on that gravel lot Tired eyes, but the grind don't stop Dust on my jeans, sweat on my neck Timecard stamped, then I chase that check Forklift hummin' on the back of the yard Boss man barkin', "Y'all work too hard" But he don’t see that second shift Side hustle cash in a coffee can, zipped [Chorus] Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live All week grind, weekend we get lit Paycheck small, but the vibe real big Clock out, then we show out (yeah, we show out) Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live Boots on the gas, let the backroad hit Hands in the air when that tailgate dips Clock out, then we show out (that’s how we live) [Verse 2] Lunch break sittin' on a busted bale Phone blowin' up with the party details "Cooler needs ice, bring that sauce" I text back, "Bet, soon as I’m off" Five o'clock whistle like a starting gun Hit that dirt lane, let it run, run, run Same hands that load up lumber Hit the cornfield turn-up, thunder [Chorus] Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live All week grind, weekend we get lit Paycheck small, but the vibe real big Clock out, then we show out (hey, we show out) Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live Boots on the gas, let the backroad hit Hands in the air when that tailgate dips Clock out, then we show out (that’s how we live) [Bridge] Monday to Friday, keep my head down Saturday, Sunday, we don’t calm down Same dirt road, two different scenes Sunrise hustle, midnight dream (woah) [Chorus] Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live All week grind, weekend we get lit Paycheck small, but the vibe real big Clock out, then we show out (yeah, we show out) Work hard, play hard, that's the way we live Boots on the gas, let the backroad hit Hands in the air when that tailgate dips Clock out, then we show out (that’s how we live)

rap, Country-trap bounce with thick 808 low-end, twangy Telecaster licks, and trap hi-hat rolls; male vocals with a gritty, conversational delivery. Verses ride a mid-tempo pocket, half-spoken, half-sung; hook explodes into a shout-along chant with stacked gang vocals. Subtle fiddle stabs and pitchy ad-libs weave through the beat; final chorus adds extra harmonies and a drop-stop before the last line for crowd impact., country

Clock-In, Turn Up