ARTIST NOTE This shouldn't exist, and that's why you should enjoy it that much more. |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| [Verse 1] I’m faking my drawl just to generate cash, I got a prop shotgun I keep on my dash. I’m singing 'bout tractors and burning up trash, And wearing a Carhartt I paid 'em to slash. I’ve never drank bourbon or Tennessee mash, My pickup is leased so I’m scared it might crash. I sat in some hay and got a horrible rash. Hold on a second, my publicist is calling. (Click) "Yeah, Trevor? No, I said oat milk, bro. I'm in the middle of a dirt road take. My throat is getting dusty." I’ve never been fishing or swam in a lake. My hands are so soft that my knuckles don't ache, I’d probably cry if I stepped on a snake. I’m wearing the boots for the video's sake, My truck is in park with the weird looking brake. I’m eating a vegan and gluten-free cake. My label said, "Raelyn, there's money to make! Just mention a beverage for heaven's sake!" So I'm cracking a beer, got a beer in my gear, I'm spilling a beer on my green John Deere. Got a beer for the cattle, a beer for the steer, I'm chucking a beer at a white tail deer. There's a beer on the dashboard, a beer in the rear, a beer that I bought from a pissed cashier. I'm filling my radiator up with beer, my engine is smoking now I think I'm stuck out here. I'm dropping a beer off the edge of the pier, I'm baiting my fishing hook up with a beer. I'm crying a tear in my ice cold beer, and whispering "beer" in my bird dog's ear. (His name is beer too.) I'm washing my boots in a bucket of beer, I haven't drank water in over a year. The sirens are loud and the sheriff is near, I'm bribing the local police with a ... Money. If I tried to bribe a cop with a Coors Light. I'd go to prison. [Verse] PBR, Rona, the Coors and the Bud, I'm renting a tractor that's stuck in some mud. Faking the sweat, the tears and the blood. Trevor told me that I look like a stud. I hired a stuntman, shoulda paid him enough Got drunk at a tailgate, went crazy and stuff He sprinted on stage and then slipped in some crud Went right off of the side and hit with a thud. (shit) Damn. My label thinks that the record's a dud. They're pulling my budget, expecting a flood. They're telling me "Raelyn your image is rough." The internet thinks that I'm faking the stuff. My hands are too soft and my voice isn't gruff. I'm bugging the fuck out, I've had it, enough... Pull out my phone, dial an uber maneuver right to 'em I'm starting to run. Fuck it. Tell all the locals I'm shooting a gun. [Pause] I reach for the prop but I fumble and drop it. Caught the attention of dudes who could kill me. I'm stomping that shit as I'm trying to stop it and hoping their camera refuses to film me. I try to back up but my boots are too heavy Tripped on a root then I fell in the gravel and fucked up my nose on the hood of a chevy and I think that I feel my persona unraveling, Scuttle away cuz I'm losing my stamina. SPRINT TO MY PRIUS AND DIVE IN THE PASSENGER Hiding my face from a hillbilly's camera. Shaekily typing a text to my manager. [Plain Speaking] (Wheezing) "Trevor.. I'm fucking done man, I just broke my nose on a parked car, and a man in overall watched me fight a piece of plastic and lose. Cancel the fucking tour, I'm moving to Berlin, I'll just make synth-pop or something."
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