Search results for ode to my car by bob evans

We've found 100 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching ode to my car by bob evans:


Car & Driver: Greatest Car Songs and Other Lost Treasures of the Road (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Ode to Baby Boomers (Ben Wasson) · Ode to Ochrasy (Mando Diao) · Ode to Bird (Walter Bishop, Jr.) · Dunia: Ode to Liberty (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Ode to Bobbie Gentry: The Capitol Years (Bobbie Gentry) · Ode to a Dying DJ (Mark Rae) · Ode to Sunshine (Delta Spirit) · The Complete Ode Recordings (Peggy Lipton) · Ode to a Dying DJ (Mark Rae) – and 90 other albums »

and over again in my head
Oh but Los Angeles ain't that far,
And the rest of the girls 
Said they'd be there, by my car.
Girl, this rubbled mess was caused by my neglect.
Of course, I'll pay and by the way, my dear,
Here comes Bob!
I ain't subtle in my ways of making
We made Oklahoma a little after 3
Randy, his brother Bob and my old G-M-C
We had some moonshine whiskey
And some of Bob's homegrown 
We were so
Could never throw shots at a super with power
What was Russia without the czars?
What was Henry Ford without the cars?
My grandparents worked at Ford
We made Oklahoma a little after 3
Randy, his brother Bob and my old GMC
We had some moonshine whisky
And some of Bob's homegrown 

We were so
to make my way to Nashville, Tennessee
When another car passed me by

Some day I'm gonna make big money
And buy myself a big old car
Make my way
We made Oklahoma a little after three
Randy, his brother Bob, and my old GFC
We had some moonshine whiskey and some of Bob's homegrown
We were so
scared and can't believe that their whole crews
Ain't a rapper alive that can fill my shoes
I'm dope on a rope virgins water elope
I do the hustle
Sittin down by the river bottle of Grits mill
Double fistin evan williams steady climbn heavy hill
This is what it's all about I couldin ask for nuthin

And come morning
I am disappeared
Just an imprint on the bedsheets
I'm by the roadside with my thumb out
A car pulls up, and Bob's driving
John 15:13
Words and Music by Bob Hartman
I wear my seatbelt in the car I buckle up for safety
I run for cover from the storm
I wear a band aid on my
One by one I lost them, out on the dry leaf floor.
We learnt to push those flathead cars as hard as they could go.
Just like old Whiskey Bob, down
Somebody want they soul to rise
I'll chase you off of this earth

I got dreams of holdin' a Nine milla to Bobs killa
Askin' him why? as my eyes
a crazy Cuffie
Bobby! Fuckin' the mics is my hobby
Fuckin' the mics is my hobby

[Outro: girl]
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby

taken by surprise when I quickly closed my eyes.
So she rang the bell, and quick as hell
Bob the Nob came out on his job
To see what the trouble was.
(Here's a special request)
(Hope you enjoy it)

I tired to find how my heart could be so blind,
How could I be fooled just like the rest
Ladies and gentlemen
This an ode to the B-boys, B-girls
The people out there who do it for the love
And believe me I'm not dissin' anybody out
again to make moves
I'll be damned if we go hungry
Ever since my pops passed the responsibilities belonged to me
This song you see is like an ode
Holland is ruled by Midgets
Pope owns CBS
Subway cars have been equipped with bars
And they're cloning Rudolph Hess

Samantha Fox, gone frigid
leaves and walking dogs
Daily deeds and bob a jobs
Sitting babies salting snow
Helping ladies cross the road
Washing cars, recycling tins
myself to fall asleep
But alas, none of them come true
No car accidents, plane crashing
No six o'clock news
Just me and my too-far-away TV

(Can you
piece whiting and a shrimp to go 

A Large lemonade now I'm out the door 

Bob's car wash keep my white walls tight 

Just put down on the Holyfield
on the tail of a dragon
Wet pussy is my cabin, more bitches than a pageant
I keep a house full nigga, call me Bob Saget
Spendin' time backwards, hotter than
to rumble well get up shit
If you buck you get fucked by that nigga named Chuckwick
Aw shit my nigga Ganksta Nip in the motherfuckin' house
Yo Nip say
Shoulda been a calculator
I'm so cold with this shit, count it in the refrigerator
Jewelry store, green bob bought my first Cartier
Threw em 30 thou