Country Boy Style

[Intro] [Record scratch, a sample of a banjo and a fiddle plays briefly, then a heavy, organic-sounding drum break with a deep kick and sharp snare takes over] [Cuts and scratches of a male voice] "Git on down!" "Yeah, country boy..." "Check the flavor." [Main rapper's voice, with a relaxed, Southern drawl] [Verse 1] Raised on red clay, dust in my lungs, sun on my back Taught to read the land, followin' the deer's track No streetlights, just stars in the blackest of nights Chasin' fireflies, feelin' all the simple delights My first love was a creek, a fishin' pole in my hand Catchin' croppie and catfish, best in the whole land My grandpa's old Ford, we'd drive it down the dirt road A cooler full of cold drinks, sharin' the heavy load Learned to cast a line before I learned to write a word Every whisper of the wind, every call of a bird This ain't no concrete jungle, this is a different kinda wild A life of freedom, from a country-raised child. [Bridge] [A DJ's voice, filtered and distant, over a simple, twangy guitar loop] "Backwoods livin'..." "Yeah, the real deal..." "From the country..." [Chorus] [Cuts and scratches of various vocal samples] "Huntin' and fishin'!" [Echoes] "Born and raised!" [Echoes] "Country boy style!" [Echoes] "Yeah, we got it all!" [Echoes] [Turntablism solo - a medley of rural-themed sounds and classic breaks] [A snippet of a country-western song is scratched in rapidly, then cut into a loop] [The sound of a banjo is brought in, layered under a new, tight drum break] [A soundbite of a hound dog barking is spun back and forth, creating a rhythmic effect] [A sound of a fishing line casting and reeling is brought in, then the vocal sample] Gimme some bass! [The scratch tempo increases, then abruptly stops on a final, resonant] Yee-haw! [Verse 2] My daddy taught me patience, sittin' in the deer stand Waitin' on the sunrise, the best feelin' in the land The smell of the campfire, a tall tale to be told A different kind of story, precious as pure gold The seasons change the landscape, the land provides the feast From a turkey in the fall, to a buck from the east My boots got mud on 'em, my hands are strong and tough But my heart is full of peace, and that's more than enough I ain't worried about the traffic, I ain't worried about the noise I'm just livin' out my life, with all my country joys This ain't no urban legend, this is the simple truth A life of hard work, that's my country youth! [Outro] [The beat fades slightly, replaced by the sound of crickets and a crackling fire] [Vocal samples are scratched in and out, like a conversation] "This is home." "You know it." "One with nature." "The land..." "Yeah, that's right." [A final, soft record scratch, followed by the sound of a vinyl needle being lifted]