Hillbilly Hustle

(woo-hoo) Dust on the boots but the beat is brand new Sifting through

the clay in the morning dew

Red dirt roads and a drum machine pocket Got a old wooden

banjo and a way to lock it Rhymes like a river rolling

down the ridge Crossing over counties on a covered bridge We don't

need a map where the wild wood grows Just a kick drum

thumping where the bluegrass blows (ooh-ooh)

Singing down from the hollow,

we ride the rhythm Take the heavy burdens,

throw them to the wind From the mountain top to the city

streets Where the banjo meets the heavy backbeats (yee-haw)

Creek water cold, frying pan hot Putting all the worries in a

boiling pot Spitting fast flows with a southern drawl While the dobro

slide answers back to the call Old porch boards keeping perfect time

With a systematic, cinematic state of mind We got the country grit,

we got the city boom Making plenty space in the living room

Singing down from the hollow,

we ride the rhythm Take the heavy burdens,

throw them to the wind From the mountain top to the city

streets Where the banjo meets the heavy backbeats (yee-haw)

Singing down from the hollow...