Lyrics:
Tush, Cocaine, Sweet Home Alabama
I knew I had her in the palm of my hand
When I stepped in the spotlight
Hot and heavy in that little alley
colonies,
Shout 'em, scout 'em, Tell all about 'em,
One by one till we've given a day to ev'ry state in the U.S.A.
Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas,
afternoon
And night
Hell no, Hell no, we ain't alright!
Alabama in the mornin, afternoon, and night
Hell no, Hell no, we ain't alright!
USA in the mornin,
and comsumers 'cause we had athis lil city down in
Alabama Boomin' so we just do it
Did it like Nike
And even wit this wifebeater on
I still got somethin up my
to Indiana
(Boy) I was lyin' I was down in Alabama!
(Girl) You said you had some business you had to complete
(Boy) What I was doin' I would be a cad
Richard frost
By: jimmy buffett
Richard frost left alabama heading west to find his fame
Only got to oklahoma and that's where he changed his name
Ask yourself why we just get by
While we struggle to maintain, bring sight to the blind
Up against the machine the "Bush Killer" remain
In between
verbals & graphic grammar
My verbal murder strech from Alaska to Alabama
Get touched by my Arm & Hammer
All across the planet niggas crumble like
This ain't nothing, I ain't stunting till I hit the button
Rich's at when the blue river diamonds flooding
Riding by the ocean just for promotion
Top
Yea
Let me tell you something about life it
Is not just strife and when
Time is passing by you don't
Notice because you're having fun
But why that time
Going back to Alabama
Now that I've learned the thing too
Life with me ain't been so easy
But I've got some living yet to do.
'Cause a man who walks
thought I couldn't flow
To a track laid back by Kid Rock G
Now even white bitches in the subberbs they jock me
With a smile pow wow they want this getto
hard to beat
As the stranger knew then the toughest two by far were where he sat
Was a pot belly fellow from south Alabama and a dude in a black felt
to Indiana
Chi-Town, K.C., Motown to Alabama
L.A., New York Yankee niggas to Hotlanta
Louisiana, all my niggas with "Country Grammar"
Smokin' blunts in
got a call in Alabama, said, "Come on home to Louisiana"
And come as fast as you can fly 'cause your momma really needs you
And says she's got to see
Dammit I show flows and poke holes that's supposed to be yo'z
Seekin my haters and in a dark alley tourmented by mine
Dodgin the [tech 4x N9ne 4x]
Now
leave a
Pack of your favorite smokes
And we’d take the by-ways to
South Alabama and run those great big
Hills to the great big blue
You sound like you’re
I can see what's coming for me
By the way that it's bending the pines
Brother, me and these eighteen wheels
Are gonna hammer on down the line
lost for words
Infatuated by her beauty
And her wonderful curves
I said, bitch, I'm Dirt McGirt
Fresh out and back on the scene
And don't you ever in
(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
on
The big screen, then hit every trap and traveled on
Past, present to Texas to Alabama strong
Down in Miami, up to Louisiana homes,
From the Carolinas,
The boys in the crew are only waiting for you
Well you been to Alabama, girl 'n Georgia too
'N all the boys in the crew is bein' good to you
I know
a line
Shift the paradigm with a pair of rhymes
Style Bonnie Caylor, in the sweep with Caroline
Getting dressed up under pressure, Alabama shakes
The boys in the crew are only waiting for you
Well you been to Alabama, girl 'n Georgia too
'N all the boys in the crew is bein' good to you
I know
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