[Verse 1: Southern-rap male MC, slow menacing drawl, every bar behind the kick] Y'all know Rusty, used to wash my pans for free Watched me mix the rub for years, he was watchin' me Brown sugar, paprika, little somethin' I won't say Then he opened up a joint across the highway in May Put a sign up, Rusty's Original, red and white And the whole parish went 'cause it tasted right Folks was askin', ain't you mad, ain't you fixin' to fight I said nah, I ain't fixin' to fight, I'm fixin' to light Some men holler, some men call a lawyer on the phone I just went out back where the old pit sat alone [Hook: Southern-rap male MC, heavy bass, menacing Southern-rap hook] I do it low and slow, I don't rush nothin' Fourteen hours on the pit and I'm comin' for somethin' Smoke on the parish, let 'em know who's cookin' I do it low and slow while you over there lookin' [Verse 2: Southern-rap male MC, colder, every bar on the clap] Five a.m., I pulled the tarp off the old black pit Built it out of oil drums, ain't nobody touched it since Split the hickory by hand and I lit it with a match Let the wind take the smoke over every tin roof patch By nine it's on the highway, by ten it's at the school By eleven it's at church and the deacon's off the pew Ain't no billboard, ain't no sign, ain't no coupon in the mail Just a gray line in the sky and the whole parish on the trail Rusty out in his lot with a fan in his hand Tryin' to blow it back across like the wind's in his plan He can copy every measure, he can copy every jar But he can't copy fourteen hours and a fire in the dark [Verse 3: Southern-rap male MC, coal pop, the beat stops for one loud pop of a hickory log, then the bass lands] Noon at Rusty's, there's a tumbleweed in it Me, I got the whole parish waitin' every minute Then his cook walked across with his apron in his hand Said, he got your rub, boss, but he never had your stand I said grab a pair of tongs, there's a brisket on the grate Some things you can't steal 'cause the secret is the wait Rusty in the window watchin' everybody leave And the hickory still goin' with a brisket up my sleeve [Final Hook: Southern-rap male MC, heavy bass, menacing Southern-rap hook, all the way down] I do it low and slow, I don't rush nothin' Fourteen hours on the pit and I'm comin' for somethin' Smoke on the parish, let 'em know who's cookin' I do it low and slow while you over there lookin' [End]
