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of old black men
Of graveyards full of rusted automobiles
Good mornin' America how are you say don't ya know me I'm your native son
I'm a train they
full of old black men
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles

[Chorus]
Good mornin' America, how are you?
Don't you know me? I'm your native son
no names
And freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Good morning America, how are you?
Said, "Don't you
And the [A]graveyards of  rusted automo[D]biles. 

{c:Chorus:} 
[G]Good morning Am[A]erica, how a[D]re you?
Say [Bm]don't you know me, [G]I'm your native [D]son. [A]
names,
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

CHORUS:
Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me
full of old black men
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles

[Chorus]
Good mornin' America, how are you?
Don't you know me? I'm your native son
names,
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

CHORUS:
Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me
God's son
As all my work, really for nothing
Di
Wd the Devil really win
I ignored God's message for too long
Am I to be devoured by sins

You took my soul
apprentice, yeah bitch I said it
Did I stutter motherfucker better call the paramedics
Its the bad lieutenant, bet it
I am diesel, ya'll unleaded
And my roots
ain't got no names
Switch yards full a' old black men
And the graveyards full of them rusted automobiles

[Chorus]
Good mornin' America, how are ya?
Well,
of dotted lines,
An epitaph not worth looking back,
Post cards of dust on bones,
If the bad news doesn't beat us home,
A rusted chain of sympathy,
For
We came to an agreement in good health
That if no-one would take care of us
We'd be fine by ourselves
It was time to fight abuse
Of those who don't
the Outlawz
Bad Azz representin' the L.B.C. Crew
What you wanna do? 
You know how we do it

Time goes by
? puffin on lye
Hopin that it get me high
Got
by their own roots into each others roots in their own devious way &
so each time the bad weather conditions came the dell of the old popular
willows
and we'll be there by mornin'
Thru the Mississippi darkness rollin' down to the sea
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel
A little hip hop

By now your life is flashing past you faster
Faster
Flipbook full of pictures of mistakes and
Questions which you never answered
You see
name
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of rusted automobiles

Good morning, America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me, I'm
If I die on this ride
Please know I love you
If I ain't by your side
Please know she got you
If you lose faith
Reside with God
Don't fall in love
Throw me a cigarette, dawg! 
They got me feelin' crazier than a motherfucker
I got Bad Azz in this motherfucker

Puffin' on lye, hopin' that it
there and try to make this bitch happy
Uh uh fuck that
It's a bad batch bad batch send them back (Make all the bad bitches want to place nice)
It's a bad
A clockwork system runs 
A rotten state of fails 
Shooting rusted guns 
At the great white whale 
March on long dead sons 
Keeping wheels on rail 
An engine for
a wrong bad move

That lead into a fight that's tragic
Flight or panic
Am I the captain or sinking with the titanic?
Spending high credit while
Spinning off
names,
Freight yards full of old grey men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

CHORUS:
Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me
all of y'all
and for the slightest disrespect i will gladly touch all of y'aLL
dedicated to doing bad and addicted to drama
people think i'm missing

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