Snow Pro in Cary

[Verse 1]
Came up dodgin’ cabs on the FDR
Black ice, brake lights, slide past every car
Bronx boy, snow boots, shovel in the trunk
Parallel park in a blizzard, that’s light work, punk
Now I’m down south, palm trees, cul-de-sac
They see one snowflake, whole town fall back
Publix packed, milk gone, bread all cleared
Whole state shut down ‘cause the sky got weird
[Chorus]
I’m a snow pro, rollin’ through Cary (skrrt, skrrt)
Y’all do ten on a flurry, that’s scary
Back home, this dust is a Tuesday slow
Out here, one inch and the world say “go home”
I’m a snow pro, chillin’ in Cary (yeah)
Salt in the veins, boy, that’s hereditary
New York raised, y’all already know
You can’t drive, but you sure can pray in snow
[Verse 2]
Neighbor got chains on his tires for a half inch
I’m in gym shorts, flip-flops, don’t even flinch
They fishtail at the sign, I just yawn, then glide
One hand, coffee, other hand, wheel, I slide
Waze say “hazard,” that’s a dusting where I’m from
This is recess, back then, that was just how we run
Cary group chat blowin’ up, “Schools might close!”
I’m like “Where?” All I see is slush on your clothes
[Chorus]
I’m a snow pro, rollin’ through Cary (woah)
Y’all do ten on a flurry, that’s scary
Back home, this dust is a Tuesday slow
Out here, one inch and the world say “go home”
I’m a snow pro, chillin’ in Cary (hey!)
Salt in the veins, boy, that’s hereditary
New York raised, y’all already know
You can’t drive, but you sure can pray in snow
[Bridge]
Whole town panickin’, I’m like “Light breeze”
Y’all spinnin’ in a parking lot at five degrees
If you see a NY plate, just follow my lane
I’ma guide y’all through this flurry like a local train (uh)
[Chorus]
I’m a snow pro, rollin’ through Cary (skrrt)
Y’all do ten on a flurry, that’s scary
Back home, this dust is a Tuesday slow
Out here, one inch and the world say “go home”
I’m a snow pro, chillin’ in Cary (yeah)
Salt in the veins, boy, that’s hereditary
New York raised, now I run this road
Southern snow day, but I’m still in go mode

rap, Playful East Coast boom-bap with crisp drums and warm bass, male vocals. Verses punchy and storytelling-focused, with quick internal rhymes. Hook gets rowdy with gang vocals and crowd chants, sprinkled ad-libs. Light keys and brass stabs accent punchlines; final chorus stacks harmonies and drops extra percussion for an anthemic, jokingly triumphant feel.