Lyrics:
It's painted red, the stripe was white
It was eighteen feet from the bow to the stern light
Second hand from a dealer in Atlanta
I rode up with
Was painted red, the stripe was white
It was eighteen feet from the bow to the stern light
Second hand from a dealer in Atlanta
I rode up with
They say it takes more now
To do what our Mom & Daddy's did
They made it look so easy
Working hard and raising kids
If you get in trouble
that their name hasn't traveled very well?
And does anybody in Ohio
Dream of that Spanish citadel?
But we still have Florence, Alabama
We don`t
that their name hasn't traveled very well?
And does anybody in Ohio
Dream of that Spanish citadel?
But we still have Florence, Alabama
We don`t
put it to the curb
We was, young and buckwild in the hood havin fun
A van drove by and my boy caught one
My heart poundin, I was chasin the past
I seen
Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would sound like
Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would sound like
Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would sound like
Mobile Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would
Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would sound like
Alabama
At a club they call Big Jack's
A little four-piece band was jammin'
So I took my guitar and I sat in
I showed 'em what a band would sound like
trouble, it turned into a struggle
Half way across Alabama the Hound broke down
Left us all stranded in downtown Birmingham
Straight off bought me a through
My verbals and graphic grammar
My verbal murder stretch from
Alaska to Alabama
Get touched by my Arm & Hammer
All across the planet
Niggas crumble like
At full blast, rock your cradle, fatal razor blades graze you
That split you open, stitch you back with a staple
A football head, I put your head, in
on the bar
Jimmy in a fist fight out by the car
Everybody was some kind of star
When we went out last night
Well, the fact that I'm still breathin'
on
The big screen then hit every trap and traveled on
Past, present to Texas to Alabama strong
(I'm tha King)
Down in Miami, up to Louisiana homes
From
(Hey, how 'bout ya, Alabama? Roll on!)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll
freakin' by a garbage can
The next young freak, I met was Red
I took her to my house and she gave me head
She like blowin' dicks, is all she said
an animal
Here we go (Alabama's own buddy)
Promenade (And I'm in a zone now)
Everybody (Bringing them home baby)
To the stage, Slick Ricky Bobby in
as bad as he is
Put him in the middle of Valley Forge by himself surrounded by the British he can do nothing
Mhm hmm hmm
Take Martin Luther King
here and pop off real quick
Yo, I gotta get that guap by any means
You know what I'm sayin', son?
Growin' up in Brooklyn, shit
I thought that
and kick it wit' me for a minute
Y'know what I'm sayin', come and ride wit' ya boy man, Hey!
Y'all ready know what it is, hey,
We gone swing by some
the Tropicannibal motel
Takin' showers 'bout every hour
'Cause I wasn't really feelin' well
Well in walked the Alabama Leanin' Man
His ol' buddy Billy Swann
Two old
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