Southern ridge riding

Check the bass, turn the treble up. Let’s get it.

Title: Next to Blow

(Beat: Heavy 808s, a slow-rolling trap whistle, and a soulful guitar lick)

Dreamin’ big, prayin’ hard, keep the motor runnin’

Chrome rims spinnin’ like the money keep on comin’

Beautiful women in the backseat, screamin’ out they love it

If it ain't a million-plus, then I’m thinkin’ nothin’ of it

Watch the pile grow, watch the ceiling drop

Celebrities at the party, man, the city never stops

Don't be hatin’ on the hustle, just wish a brother luck

‘Cause tomorrow it’s your turn to be the next one blowin’ up.

I’m talkin’ candy paint drippin’ like it’s fresh out the rain

Six hundred horses under hood, I’m switchin’ the lanes

From the dirt roads of the South to the hills of the West

Got a heavy-duty wallet and a "S" on my chest

I remember lookin’ up, now they lookin’ at me

Stackin’ blue strips tall, like a Tennessee tree

When the engine roars, yeah, it sounds like a choir

Smokin’ on the asphalt, I’m fettin’ the fire.

The mansion is jumpin’, the floorboards are shakin’

I’m seein’ A-list faces, no, it ain’t no mistaken

Movie stars in the kitchen, rappers out by the pool

Livin’ out a movie, man, we breakin’ every rule

And the ladies? Yeah, they gorgeous, and they bold, and they free

Living loud, screamin’ "Yeah!", keepin’ pace with the G

Piles turn to mountains, we don’t count it by the bills

We just weigh it on the scale while we’re lookin’ for the thrills.

Don't look at me with envy, just look at me for hope

I’m the proof you can make it if you climb up the rope

Keep your eyes on the dash and your foot on the floor

Once you open up the gate, you go and kick down the door.

Yeah.

From the mud to the stars.

Keep that engine hummin’.

I’ll see you at the top.

(Fade out with the sound of a turbo spooling)