Lyrics:
being locked in this prison cell
But I always hum those tunes of George Jones to help me through my days of hell
I've done me 25 years,
and that?s
(Baby, are you up for this?)
(Ready for the bump and grind)
(Baby, are you up for this?)
Suh, suh, s-s-s-suh
(B-B-B-Baby, are you up for this?)
(Baby, are you up for this?)
(Are you ready for the bump and grind)
(Baby, are you up for this?)
Suh, suh, s-s-s-suh
(B-b-b-b-b-baby, are you up
Oh Lord!
Gimme that God Almighty
That good old Gospel
That old school doctrine
Oh Lord!
Gimme that truth for the body
Ain't nothing new about
snowfall
The real snowfall
I'm acting brand new next year nigga ion know y'all Ion know y'all
And if the friend good then fuck it I want both of y'all
I want
and Bourbon, blended Jack and George Jones
But I'm numb to the drink, instead I'm drunk on country songs
Verse:
Bartender pours a round of hard knocks, sipping
your rose colored glasses, please
Leave these past emcees in the past, capisce?
Damn, good grief! Give someone else a chance to speak
He used to be brash
"Copperhead Road" yeah
Ridin' on them backroads
Tokin' on that good smoke
Radio is blastin' old George Jones
The city talking now
Yeah, we who they talking bout
Rose gold Rolex, Big boy benzes
I had to switch the lenses
I had to dead some friendships
(Jim Jones
family the hatred only grew
Playing gigs for money didn't seem so bad
But life in duality nothing good can be had
Even playing on a big stage couldn't
Doc should have had a funeral
Fine enough for a king
It's a ghastly joke that our town was broke
And no one could give a thing
'Cept Jones
Meet Eddie, 23 years old
Fed up with life (damn)
And the way things are going (I'm going fucking insane)
He decides to rob a liquor store (I gotta
Meet Eddie, 23 years old
Fed up with life (damn)
And the way things are going (I'm going fucking insane)
He decides to rob a liquor store (I gotta
Ready for the bump and grind
Wheel it back and run it one more time, yeah
Yeah (Suh, suh, s-s-s-suh)
Ain't it different? (yeah)
Spent like ten years
see me with Boy Better Know
I've got some sort of firearm in the pocket
So if I don't send for the bucky and pop it
Send for the taser
Put it on a pussy
and bore it thro'.
For Enoch parted with his old sea-friend,
Bought Annie goods and stores, and set his hand
To fit their little streetward sitting-room
hauled off to jail?
Man, fuck that, hit that shit raw dog, then bail
(Here I lay)
Man, it feels good to be home
Meet Grady, a 29-year
cord severed
Killed in a police van after arrested
Six officers got charged, this is ridiculous
Two years, four trials, no convictions
(G)
George
hard
And if the food ain't on the stove I hunt for it
But in the meantime you can call me young Roy
Jones Jr. fighting the drugs and gun charge
Shit,
Corner I stood looking at my former hood
Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn't
About livin' on the farm
Sittin' by the campfire with his guitar
Singing Haggard and George Jones
And I could see as time went by, because of him
I'm
Just like George Jones and one of his gold plated chrome tin microphones
Well the only time that I ever got booed is when I busted a rap by the 2 Live
JK: Is that a new grill you have there?
KW: Nah they've been in my
Mouth for three years
JK: That one on the bottom? OK
Well it's good to see you
KW:
gold hat
I'm sellin' weed a year later, whoa, here come the crack
I'm sellin' 50's and bopper's the cluckers say I got good
And wit the crack came
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