[Intro – Slide guitar + harmonica + heavy drum stomp] (spoken, over fuzz guitar and foot-stompin' beat) “If you’re runnin’ from justice in Alabama… You better pray you don’t hear three engines comin’ over the ridge…” [Verse 1 – Swampy riff, gritty delivery] Out past the cotton, where the heat don’t sleep, Where the devil grins wide and the rivers run deep. Three men ride with no time to talk, Just bullet belts swingin’ and death in their walk. Brick got the scars, Lincoln got the brains, McQueen’s got a laugh like a southbound train. You won’t see 'em comin’ 'til you feel that burn — When the Oodie boys ride, there’s no return. [Chorus – Loud, gritty, call-and-response] Brothers Oodie — cleanin’ the land, With a six-gun sermon and a bloodstained hand! Brothers Oodie — bringin’ the law, With a badge in the dirt and justice raw! They don’t talk much — they don’t need to explain, They bring the rain — and it sure ain’t rain. [Verse 2 – Spoken delivery mixed with shout] Sheriff Millard sits high in the chair, Smokin’ his pipe in the courthouse air. Says, “Boys, we got scum up in Jackson Ridge — Go clean the wound, and burn the bridge.” No trials. No cuffs. Just lead and dust. One shot deals and a gut-full of trust. They ride by night, disappear by dawn — And by breakfast, the bad man's gone. [Chorus – Repeat with extra vocal grit] Brothers Oodie — ridin’ tall, Paintin’ their path with outlaw sprawl! Brothers Oodie — cold and clean, Turnin’ this land into a war machine! They don’t play nice — they don’t show fear, You hear that rumble? The end is near. [Bridge – Slide guitar jam + spoken word rant] (spoken with venom, like Neil Fallon) “They say it’s gangs killin’ gangs. But nah… It’s just the Oodie boys… Takin’ out the trash.” (slide guitar screams, harmonica howls, then a dirty guitar solo) [Final Chorus – Extended, with call-backs and ad-libs] Brothers Oodie — steel and flame, Every outlaw remembers the name. Brothers Oodie — no second try, Cross that line… you’re gonna die! With Millard on the wire, and hell on their heels, The south stays clean from their killin’ wheels. No court, no mercy, no time to pray — The Brothers Oodie gonna make you pay. [Outro – Fades out with harmonica, foot stomps, distant engine noise] (deep voice, fading out) “Ain’t no ghost story… They’re real. And they’re comin’.”
