COUNTY X SWAMP LINES X SONG. THE ROAD ENDS WHERE THE SWAMP BEGINS. They said we'd never make it past the county line. So we never stopped drivin'. Blue lights dancin' in the rearview glass. Red clay flyin' where the blacktop cracks. Backroad smoke in a full moon sky. Dust on the boots and a tank runnin' dry. We're runnin' county lines on dirt roads
Rattlebone Red. Down where the cypress drinks the black. There's a man they buried but he came back. Traded his teeth at the crossroad shack. For a five-string strung with a dead man's hair. Sheriff went lookin', found a hat in a chair. Found a fresh-dug hole and a banjo there. Rattlebone Red, Rattlebone Red. Put your ear to the water, hear what he
SWAMP PICKIN Don't tie your boat where the black water bends. After the sun drops low. Old river keeps what the daylight leaves, that's just something locals know. If you hear a whistle through the cypress trees, don't whistle back too soon. Might be the wind, might be Charlie, singing to the moon. Cottonmouth Charlie, laughing through the cane. Wa
SWAMP KARAOKE - FRI NITES. KARAOKE KING. You hear that? That ain't country. That ain't trap neither. This that legend mud rap. Talk slick, slip, get stuck in the mud. Bootleg bounce, make the backline book. Banjo click with the baseline cut. You don't run this boy, you run your luck. Talk slick, slip, get stuck in the mud. Jaw hop, chatter, make yo
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