Backyard Battle Cry

[Verse 1]
Ripped jeans, backyard, plastic cup
Our big plans in a beat‑up truck
You said fame, I said “get through math”
Both of us laughed till we almost crashed
[Chorus]
Yeah, we broke kids talkin’ like bosses (like bosses)
Dream house drawn in the margins of quizzes we’re flunkin’ and tossin’
Told my doubts “stay back, you toxic” (so toxic)
Turn my bad days into profit, every heartbreak in my pocket
We don’t bow, we don’t back down
Turn this small town to a lockdown
Of our sound, that’s our battle cry
We the heroes that they couldn’t write
[Verse 2]
Late night, front porch, bitten nails
You paced circles, said you’d never bail
I hit send on a risky song
You hit play and you sang along
[Chorus]
Yeah, we broke kids talkin’ like bosses (like bosses)
Dream house drawn in the margins of quizzes we’re flunkin’ and tossin’
Told my doubts “stay back, you toxic” (so toxic)
Turn my bad days into profit, every heartbreak in my pocket
We don’t bow, we don’t back down
Turn this small town to a lockdown
Of our sound, that’s our battle cry
We the heroes that they couldn’t write

rap, Stripped pop-punk meets boom-bap hybrid: verses on bright acoustic strums and palm-muted drive, tight male vocals with raw edges. Chorus drops into heavy, swung hip hop drums, subby bass, and chopped acoustic hits with a chanty hook and stacked gang vocals. Energy starts scrappy and intimate, then explodes into a shout-along anthem by the final chorus., hip hop, acoustic, pop punk