Mud, Bass, & Boots
Yeah, yeah…
Got a little mud on the tires,
dirt on my jeans,
Small-town kid with some big-time dreams.
Turn that bass up,
let the whole road shake,
Country boy living, ain't a damn thing fake.
Got mud on the tires,
got bass in the bed,
Country roads rolling while the sun turns red.
Blue-collar heart, got a wild side too,
Little bit of whiskey-town soul in my boots.
We ride all night with the windows down,
Kick up dust when we roll through town.
Got that Southern drawl with a hip-hop sound,
If you hear that bass,
better turn it up loud!
Old black truck sitting up on a lift,
Rust on the bumper,
but the paint still hits.
Backroad bends and a full tank of gas,
Leaving all my problems in the rearview glass.
Granddaddy taught me how to work with my hands,
Earn what you got,
always stick to your plans.
Got a few good friends that'll ride till the end,
And a couple fake ones I won't call again.
Dust on the dash,
got a dog in the back,
Country on the radio,
808s in the track.
Ain't from the city,
but we bring that heat,
Steel-toe boots with a Southern-style beat.
Got mud on the tires,
got bass in the bed,
Country roads rolling while the sun turns red.
Blue-collar heart, got a wild side too,
Little bit of whiskey-town soul in my boots.
We ride all night with the windows down,
Kick up dust when we roll through town.
Got that Southern drawl with a hip-hop sound,
If you hear that bass,
better turn it up loud!
Friday night, parking lot full of trucks,
Everybody working, trying to make a few bucks.
Got dreams bigger than the town I'm in,
Might take the long road,
but I'm gonna win.
Lost some love, had a couple rough years,
Learned real quick who was really sincere.
Now I keep my circle small,
keep my head held high,
With a dirt-road soul and a wide-open sky.
Twenty-inch rims, hear the exhaust talk,
Fresh pair of boots when I hit that walk.
A little bit of country,
little rap in my veins,
Turn a hard day's work into Saturday flames.
Take me where the stars shine bright,
Where the crickets sing and the moon hangs white.
Where the road runs long and the air smells sweet,
And the kick drum knocks with a backwoods beat.
Got mud on the tires,
got bass in the bed,
Country roads rolling while the sun turns red.
Blue-collar heart, got a wild side too,
Little bit of Southern soul coming straight through.
We ride all night with the windows down,
Kick up dust when we roll through town.
Got that Southern drawl with a hip-hop sound,
Country rap king when I come around!