Collins Obinna Chibueze grew up in Woodbridge, Virginia, the son of Nigerian immigrants, splitting his attention between his father's outlaw-country records and the hip-hop videos beaming out of 106 & Park. He spent a decade releasing country-rap albums to a niche audience before "A Bar Song (Tipsy)" — built on a sample of J-Kwon's 2004 hit "Tipsy" — became a 19-week No. 1 and made him one of the genre's biggest crossover stories. His whole catalog treats country storytelling and hip-hop cadence as dialects of the same language rather than opposing genres.
Cash's boom-chicka-boom outlaw storytelling is the root Shaboozey keeps pointing back to: a plainspoken, first-person narrator caught between vice and remorse, delivered over a rhythm section that chugs like a train.
listen forThe deadpan, low-register verses, the train-beat rhythm guitar chugging underneath, and lyrics that treat drinking and regret as matter-of-fact rather than melodramatic.
Shaboozey has singled out Robbins' voice and his "gunfighter ballad" storytelling — narrative songs that play out like a short story, with a beginning, a reckoning, and a fall — as a direct model for folding Old West narrative arcs into his own writing.
listen forA single, unbroken narrative thread running verse to verse rather than a hook-first pop structure, first-person regret, and imagery of cantinas, gambling, and a life staked on one big bet.
Watching Lil Wayne (and Juvenile) videos on 106 & Park as a kid is the memory Shaboozey traces his hip-hop fandom back to — "I felt like they transported me into their world" — and that loose, ad-libbed mixtape-era flow still surfaces whenever he switches from singing into a rapped cadence.
listen forThe clipped, syncopated rap cadence and chanted hook repetition layered over country instrumentation — a Cash Money-style flow dropped into a barroom singalong.