We Ride

Intro

Mm-hmm, yeah, ooh

Country blood, concrete beats (hey)

Ta-ta-touch the radio, let it breathe

Verse

Rollin' with a tailgate anthem, gravel on my boots

Sunset on the dash, mama's prayers in my roots (yeah)

Got a map full of detours and a head full of plans

Work gloves in my backseat, dreams in my hands (uh-huh)

Raised on two-step rhythms and a four-four beat

Guitar in the cab, bass down low, stomp the seat

Met the world at the county line, shook hands with the dawn

Sold a few small town nights to the songs I wrote on my lawn (yuh)

Pickup like a promise, chrome like a grin

We trade our slow Sundays for a road that won't end

Cold beer in the cooler, warm fire in the stare

She said, "Boy, chase that sunset, get out from that armchair"

I spit rhymes like fence posts, quick to stand my ground

Rap lines with a banjo twang, keep the hood proud of the plow

From diner coffee to neon-free marquees (alright) —

We make our own lights when the crowd wants to see

Skrrt — tires kiss the gravel, rev it up, don't wait

This town's our runway, engine's hungry, can't sedate (yeah)

Pre-chorus

Moon over the silo, we whisper plans in smoke

Hands on the wheel, no promise spoke (no promise spoke)

Barstool prophets say the dream's a joke

But we lace our boots and keep stoking hope (keep stoking hope)

Chorus

We ride, we ride, tailgate to the sunrise (oh-oh)

We ride, we ride, two worlds in one life (hey-ya)

We ride, we ride, sing it loud through the miles (na-na)

We ride, we ride, keep our fire in the fight (oh-oh)

We ride, we ride, tailgate to the sunrise (oh-oh)

We ride, we ride, two worlds in one life (hey-ya)

We ride, we ride, sing it loud through the miles (na-na)

We ride, we ride, keep our fire in the fight (oh-oh)

Verse

Check the ledger, check the lineage, hustles stack like hay

Weekday sweat, weekend stage, we hustle then we play

Granddad said, "Boy, you got a steady hand and stubborn eyes"

I turned those stubborn eyes into hooks that climb the sky (yuh)

Barbecue smoke and boom-bap, I stitch the beat with string

Harmonica on the bridge, let the chorus take wing

She braided my last name into the hometown song

We fought the small-town rumors, then we proved ’em wrong (uh)

City folks smile puzzled when they hear the twang on the track

But they tap their feet by the second beat and they never look back

I keep a pocketful of postcards from every road I've crossed

Each one says keep driving, even when it costs

Checkmate to the doubt, rook moves from the porch

We hustle in overalls, kings of our own torch

Radio static to stadium traffic, we flip the switch (flip it)

From mud-stained dreams to chrome and pitch (yeah)

Ain't no shame in the roots, ain't no shame in the grind

We mix the verses with the plow — soul, grit, and rhyme (uh-huh)

Bridge

Sing low, sing loud, let the nightwear down

We built this out of dust and late shift sounds

Hold tight, h