I Don’t Do This For The Plays

[Verse 1]
Mud on my boots, dust on my name
You chase numbers, I chase that flame
You want charts, I want the truth
Same small town, way different roots
You refresh screens, I’m out on the porch
Writing these bars by the old back door
You need a crowd just to feel yourself
I’m cool alone, I don’t need that help
[Chorus]
I don’t do this for the plays, I do it for myself
If you hit that little button, cool, if not I’m still blessed
You can keep your petty talk, your cheap little flex
I don’t do this for the plays, I do it for myself
[Verse 2]
You start beef just to beg for eyes
I see through all them borrowed lines
Argue online like it’s pay per view
Still broke, still mad, still nothing new
I spill pain in a one-take track
You spill names, then you walk it back
I ain’t out here tryna win some belt
I’m in the barn tryna heal my health
[Chorus]
[Bridge]
You diss, you beg, you plead, you post
All that noise, still you feel like a ghost
I ride out where the fence line ends
Turn that hurt into words again
[Chorus]

rap, Rap-country hybrid over twangy slide guitar and a gritty, head-nod groove. Verses ride a swung trap beat with warm bass and dusty acoustic strums; hook explodes with gang vocals, stomp-claps, and a simple sing-along melody. Keep vocal delivery raw, conversational, with a touch of Southern drawl; sprinkle ad-libs and doubles for attitude. Male vocals., country