[Intro – Slow banjo pluck, trap 808 beat drops in]
Yeah…
Creek water in my Styrofoam
Gold teeth flashin’ while I’m ridin’ home
Diesel rumbles, .45 in the glove
Raised on dirt, now I’m iced out tough
⸻
[Hook – Melodic with a drawl]
🎶 Mud tires spinnin’, gold chains swingin’
Camo hoodie on, but the wrist still blingin’
Trucks jacked high, but the Glock stay low
From the cornfield rows to the trap house doors
Yeah, we thuggin’ in the sticks, ridin’ clean in the rain
Country boy soul with a hustler’s brain 🎶
⸻
[Verse 1 – Rap flow, country twang]
Outlaw blood, I was born with a scar
Catch me tailgatin’ with a jar in the car
Hog huntin’ in the mornin’, moonshine at night
But I still make plays when the signal’s right
Got a barn full of work, no horses in sight
That steel toe stomp’ll end a barroom fight
Keep a switchblade tucked in my Wrangler jeans
And a past full of pain that you ain’t never seen
⸻
[Hook – With harmonica licks]
🎶 Mud tires spinnin’, gold chains swingin’
Camo hoodie on, but the wrist still blingin’
Trucks jacked high, but the Glock stay low
From the cornfield rows to the trap house doors
Yeah, we thuggin’ in the sticks, ridin’ clean in the rain
Country boy soul with a hustler’s brain 🎶
⸻
[Verse 2 – Gritty Southern rap]
Granny taught me how to shoot and pray
Daddy taught me how to flip that pay
Hustlin’ ain’t a game, it’s a way of life
Got a sawed-off pump and a pocket knife
I don’t sag my jeans, but I walk with a lean
Bass hittin’ hard like a meth-fed machine
This ain’t Nashville, this the backwoods dirt
Where we stack up bills and we still go to church
⸻
[Bridge – Singing with autotune twist]
🎶 I’m baptized in swamp water, scarred from them fights
But I shine in the dark like a bar room light
Don’t need no city dreams or no L.A. fame
Got a pistol, a prayer, and a hard last name 🎶
⸻
[Final Hook – Extra hype with backup chants]
🎶 Mud tires spinnin’, gold chains swingin’
(Backwoods thug, yeah, the anthem’s ringin’)
Camo hoodie on, but the wrist still blingin’
(Straight from the creek to the club, no slippin’)
Trucks jacked high, but the Glock stay low
(If you know, then you know how this life gon’ go)
Yeah, we thuggin’ in the sticks, ridin’ clean in the rain
Country boy soul with a hustler’s brain 🎶