Gulf Coast Cowboy And His Cracked Chip

[Verse 1]
Got a helper in my phone with a busted brain
Thinks a saddle is an app, can’t spell my last name
Ask it ’bout the bayou, it starts talkin’ ’bout the cloud
I just laugh, tip my brim, talk slow and loud (yeah)
Teach it how we tailgate by the waterline
Shrimp on the grill, cheap beer, sunshine
Show it how we two-step in the parking lot dust
Say “this here’s real life, learn it from us”
[Chorus]
I’m a Gulf Coast cowboy with a cracked-chip bot
Gotta spell it out plain so it don’t get lost
From the mud on my boots to the wind off the bay
I’m raisin’ up my AI the old-school way
Gulf Coast cowboy, talkin’ drawl so slick
If it don’t understand, I just teach it again real quick (hey!)
[Verse 2]
Told it, “Drop a country rap,” it pulled up stats
So I broke it down simple over tailgate chats
Said, “You brag on your folks, your truck, your town
Then you sneak in a prayer when the sun goes down”
Had it hummin’ on a harp in a minute flat
Bent them notes so sweet, it forgot it was stats
Now it’s spittin’ little verses ’bout the pier at night
While I’m ridin’ down the causeway, dashboard light
[Chorus]
I’m a Gulf Coast cowboy with a cracked-chip bot
Gotta spell it out plain so it don’t get lost
From the mud on my boots to the wind off the bay
I’m raisin’ up my AI the old-school way
Gulf Coast cowboy, talkin’ drawl so slick
If it don’t understand, I just teach it again real quick (oh yeah)
[Bridge]
It says, “What’s salt air?” I say, “Breathe in deep”
“What’s hard work feel like?” “Son, that’s how we sleep”
Every dumb question, I just tip my hat
‘Cause I kinda like my little sidekick like that
[Chorus]
I’m a Gulf Coast cowboy with a cracked-chip bot
Gotta spell it out plain so it don’t get lost
From the mud on my boots to the wind off the bay
I’m raisin’ up my AI the old-school way
Gulf Coast cowboy, laugh when it glitches out
Long as it learns my heart, that’s what it’s all about

rap, Laid-back country-rap blend over swampy slide guitar, dusty trap-influenced drums, and wheezy harmonica fills; verses ride a sly, storytelling pocket with loose swagger, hook opens up into a singalong country chorus; male vocals with twangy lead, half-spoken rap cadences, stacked gang shouts on the title line, and harmonica answering phrases between vocal lines, country