Thugcore Cowboy
Necro Lyrics


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My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

My deluxe bullets lift you fucks up like a pull-up
Carve you with a Phillip schmuck, Gemstar your grill up
I'm not a law-abiding citizen, I'm a rider I get it in
I'll get acquitted fast after I smash your fitted in
I almost got trapped in jail cause you're a turncoat tattletale
Battle snake rat, your legal battle failed
I've broken all the rules, old-school gangster
Provoke me and I'll smoke you with the tools, choke you with your jewels
Like a molar rips through, my whole crew flips you
Money you try to son me and I'll solar eclipse you
Fuck you up like a polar shift, steal your skins
Hardcore pimp, hat with the brim, Fillmore Slim
You're too stupid to work a gun son, it exploded
'Cause you're the type to clean a gun out while it's loaded
I capitalize slapping you guys, you could be the best rapper
I'm the best clapper alive

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat
Somebody fucked up boy
I'll catch you for duffing the street, yeah I'll do that
Beef handling myself, true that

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

You'll never be victorious, you'll forever lose
You're the sorriest excuse of a warrior the hood's ever produced
I'm vain glorious, I remain the goriest
Pop a tourist with a Taurus, the slug tore through the chest
Ghetto like a dollar cab, catch you solitaire
Grab you by your collar, holler scared wallow down the stairs
Trying to vic me shorty? You think you slick? I'm WD-40
Slicker than the oil of a Saudi
You're still breastfed in your nest, your father molests you
Test-tube baby, you look like your mother dressed you
Backslap you, bitch-smack you, cop pleas, screaming, "Stop please!"
Baseball bat pop knees
I'm the shiznit while you got bad kismet
You do bad business, your future's cataclysmic
Shoot you with the gat quick, orbit my fat prick
Like the satellite Sputnik'll suck a dick

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat
Somebody fucked up boy
I'll catch you for duffing the street, yeah I'll do that
Beef handling myself, true that





My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

Overall Meaning

In the song "Thugcore Cowboy" by Necro, the lyrics convey a raw and intense perspective on survival and power in a violent environment. The line "My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king" symbolizes the desperation and reliance on firearms for protection in a world ruled by violence. The "rope" represents the hangman's noose, symbolizing the constant threat of death, while the "Colt" refers to the iconic Colt revolver, a symbol of power and control.


Throughout the song, Necro showcases his aggressive and ruthless nature. He boasts about his skills and fearlessness, comparing himself to a "thugcore cowboy" who beats and punishes those who cross him. The lyrics are filled with vivid descriptions of violence, such as carving someone's face with a knife and choking them with their own jewelry. Necro also expresses disdain for those who betray or testify against him, asserting his dominance in the criminal underworld.


The song captures the dark and gritty realities of living in a world where survival depends on strength, cunning, and the willingness to resort to brutality. It portrays a character who has embraced violence as a means to protect himself and gain power in a hostile environment.




Contributed by Adrian E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Most interesting comment from YouTube:

@gkelme

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

My deluxe bullets lift you fucks up like a pull-up
Carve you with a Phillip schmuck, Gemstar your grill up
I'm not a law-abiding citizen, I'm a rider I get it in
I'll get acquitted fast after I smash your fitted in
I almost got trapped in jail cause you're a turncoat tattletale
Battle snake rat, your legal battle failed
I've broken all the rules, old-school gangster
Provoke me and I'll smoke you with the tools, choke you with your jewels
Like a molar rips through, my whole crew flips you
Money you try to son me and I'll solar eclipse you
Fuck you up like a polar shift, steal your skins
Hardcore pimp, hat with the brim, Fillmore Slim
You're too stupid to work a gun son, it exploded
'Cause you're the type to clean a gun out while it's loaded
I capitalize slapping you guys, you could be the best rapper
I'm the best clapper alive

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat
Somebody fucked up boy
I'll catch you for duffing the street, yeah I'll do that
Beef handling myself, true that

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

You'll never be victorious, you'll forever lose
You're the sorriest excuse of a warrior the hood's ever produced
I'm vain glorious, I remain the goriest
Pop a tourist with a Taurus, the slug tore through the chest
Ghetto like a dollar cab, catch you solitaire
Grab you by your collar, holler scared wallow down the stairs
Trying to vic me shorty? You think you slick? I'm WD-40
Slicker than the oil of a Saudi
You're still breastfed in your nest, your father molests you
Test-tube baby, you look like your mother dressed you
Backslap you, bitch-smack you, cop pleas, screaming, "Stop please!"
Baseball bat pop knees
I'm the shiznit while you got bad kismet
You do bad business, your future's cataclysmic
Shoot you with the gat quick, orbit my fat prick
Like the satellite Sputnik'll suck a dick

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are king

Thugcore cowboy, somebody gets beat
Somebody fucked up boy
I'll catch you for duffing the street, yeah I'll do that
Beef handling myself, true that

My life depends upon my gun and my gun spells hope in the land where the rope and the Colt are the King



All comments from YouTube:

@patrykjedi4583

He has a line about trading in skins and pelts to coincide with the cowboy western theme. Went over my head at first. Amazing

@DefconLaccuci

Only rapper who stay real after years, all song still dope with insane intrumental. You'r already a legend Necro!

@theduhscripshunn5476

Necro the fuckin dude!!!!!

@jagemc

💯

@jagemc

Atom Phone Sure Is.....

@charles-jb4sp

He’s a master of his craft

@LightfingersKlepto

much real! so rap!

2 More Replies...

@gregshanahan5113

as a lyricist this dude is so slept on its not even funny

@mikebizzleuk

totally agree. but it's even more fucked up how slept on he is as a producer. his beats are fucking hard

@number1enemyoftheuseless985

80% of people are asleep on what is really going on.

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