I slipped on my boots,
Headed out for some loot.
I can settle in the barn,
But not in chair fiddling with some yarn.
Ain't that type to stick around,
Gotta' stand tall, stand my ground.
I wanna' work in the law,
Even if doesn't handle a saw.
I got a truck,
All beat down, like my luck.
I like livin' in the country,
My roots lived here over a century.
The issue is,
The city is where my dream lives.
Packin' up my truck,
Imma let the streets know what just struck!