I play chicken with the train cowboy troy

Table of Contents Show

Cowboy Troy Lyrics
Music Videos
More by Cowboy Troy
Featured On
You Might Also Like
Playing Chicken With the Train: Cowboy Troy’s Hick-Hop and the Transracial Country West
RELATED CONTENT

Cowboy Troy Lyrics

"I Play Chicken With The Train"
(feat. Big & Rich)

[Chorus - Big & Rich]
I play chicken with the train
Play chicken with the train train
Unh huh huh unh huh huh
You know that I play chicken with the train
Play chicken with the train train
Unh huh huh unh huh huh yeah

[Verse 1 - Cowboy Troy]
Hold 'em up! Here we go!
All the hicks and chicks feel the flow
Big black train comin 'round the bend
Gwone kinfolk tell ya mamanem
Chug-a-lugga, chug-a-lugga, chug-a-lugga who?
The big blackneck comin' through to you
Boy you done fell and bumped your head
Uh huh that's what they said
People said it's impossible,
Not probable, too radical
But I already been on the CMA's
Hell Tim McGraw said he like the change
And he likes the way my hick-hop sounds
And the way the crowd screams when I stomp the ground
I'm big and black, clickety-clack
And I make the train jump the track like that

[Repeat Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Cowboy Troy]
From mic to cassette deep into your ear
My voice is your choice that you wanted to hear
Southern boy makin' noise where the buffalo roam
Flesh, denim and bone as you might have known
See me ridin' into town like a desperado
With a big belt buckle, the cowboy bravado
All over the world wide web you'll see
Download CBT on an mp3
Speak clearly what I'm sayin' so you'll comprehend
Hit the net for hick-hop radio, tune in
Rollin' like thunder on the scene
It's kinda hard to describe if you know what I mean
I never claimed to be the hardest of the roughest hard rocks
But I'm boomin' out yo' box
Skills got you jumpin' outch'a socks
From Texas here I come, movin' yo body with a bass kick drum!

[Repeat Chorus]

[Cowboy Troy]
I play chicken with the train
Play chicken with the train train
Unh huh huh unh huh huh
I play chicken with the train
Play chicken with the train train

[Big & Rich]
Unh huh huh unh huh huh you know that

[Repeat Chorus]

[Cowboy Troy]
Huh!
Yeah!
One time!
Get you some of that!

Writer(s): John Rich, Troy Coleman, Angie Aparo

AZLyrics
C
Cowboy Troy Lyrics

album: "Loco Motive" (2005)

Cowboy Troy

Country · 2005

I Play Chicken With the Train (feat. Big & Rich)

3:16

April 12, 2005

1 Song, 3 Minutes

℗ 2005 Warner Records Inc.

Music Videos

More by Cowboy Troy

Featured On

Cowboy Troy, 2005, photographed by Angie Ambrosio, courtesy of a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic License.

Playing Chicken With the Train: Cowboy Troy’s Hick-Hop and the Transracial Country West

by Adam Gussow
Southern Cultures, Vol. 16, No. 4: Winter 2010

"'My belt buckle is my bling-bling. It's just going to keep getting bigger.'"

There was no necessary reason why Cowboy Troy’s country-rap single, “I Play Chicken With the Train,” should have caused such an uproar among country music fans when it was released in the spring of 2005. The song itself is a sonic Rorschach test: not so singular a curiosity as many might think, but still a challenge to what passes for common knowledge in the music business. It is animated by a sound and a lyric stance that might strike us, in a receptive mood, as uncanny—at once unfamiliar, a half-and-half blend of two musical idioms that rarely find themselves so jarringly conflated, and strangely familiar, as though the song has distilled the sound of ten-year-old boys filled with limitless bravado, jumping up and down and hollering into the summer afternoon. Compared with other country-rap hybrids, “I Play Chicken With the Train” contains surprisingly few sonic signifiers of hip-hop: no breakbeats, no samples, no drum machines, no scratching. The full burden of audible blackness is carried by Cowboy Troy’s decidedly old-school rap, with its square phrasing, tame syncopations, and echoes of Run-DMC. One hears white voices framing, doubling, responding to, supporting, that black voice; simultaneously, one senses that somebody has torn down the wall that is supposed to demarcate firmly the boundary between twanging redneck euphoria—the lynch-mob’s fiddle-driven rebel yell—and rap’s exaggerated self-projections of urban black masculinity.