[Intro] [Harmonica riff circles in, lazy and mean] Gulf Coast dust on my boots Salt in my cup Hat tipped low And I still don’t give a— [Verse 1] Gulf Coast cowboy King of the shit town Lean in the console Seat sittin’ ripped down Boss of the heathens Laugh when the law frowns Talkin’ like a legend Sleepin’ on a dog couch Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Just the gas station saga Hot beer, cold fries And a parking lot drama Bitchen over somethin’ That I’ll forget tomorrow Full tank, full ashtray Half-full of sorrow [Chorus] I’m the boss of the heathens King of the shit town Cussin’ at the sky While the sun goes down Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Still they sing that sound ’Cause nothin’ really matters When you’re stuck right now Boss of the heathens Crown made of smoke Laugh through the trouble Turn pain into jokes Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Till the night runs out ’Cause nothin’ really matters But the here, right now [Verse 2] Rust on the Chevy But it still might start Bible on the dash Devil in my heart Old man preachin’ I just roll past slow Got prayers on my phone And a cracked screen glow Trailer park prophets On the tailgate throne Talk big talk ’Bout leavin’ this zone Bitchen over somethin’ Like we got it all planned But we ain’t got gas Just time on our hands [Chorus] I’m the boss of the heathens King of the shit town Cussin’ at the sky While the sun goes down Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Still they sing that sound ’Cause nothin’ really matters When you’re stuck right now Boss of the heathens Crown made of smoke Laugh through the trouble Turn pain into jokes Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Till the night runs out ’Cause nothin’ really matters But the here, right now [Bridge] [Harmonica echoes the melody, drums fall back] If it all burns up Let it burn in style (yeah) If this dead-end road Is a long green mile I’ll still sit high In this broke-down seat Talkin’ ’bout nothin’ Like it’s all I need [Chorus] I’m the boss of the heathens King of the shit town Cussin’ at the sky While the sun goes down Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Still they sing that sound ’Cause nothin’ really matters When you’re stuck right now Boss of the heathens Crown made of smoke Laugh through the trouble Turn pain into jokes Rappin’ ’bout nothin’ Till the night runs out ’Cause nothin’ really matters But the here, right now [Outro] [Harmonica solo rides the track out, fading into night sounds]

rap, Swampy rap-country mashup: wheezy harmonica intro riff over brushed snare and loose acoustic guitar strums. Beat drops with trunky low end and twangy electric licks. Verses are half-spoken, half-sung with a lazy Gulf drawl; hook stacks gritty male vocals in a rowdy shout-along. Harmonica keeps answering the vocal phrases between lines., country

Boss Of The Heathens