Lyrics:
Y'all skeet skeet motherfuckers (ay yo Little Jon)
Y'all skeet skeet God damn (I don't think they see this one coming)
Ay yo! Check it!
I'm comin'
the coldest town from here to Georgia
(I'm a crooked.. crooked nigga too)
It's the coldest town from here to Georgia
Y'all gon' stop fuckin with me
I've
to Florida, Alabama, Georgia
Might need his shirt, I know it hurt, he got his name embroided
I'm labeled a boss and not a artist, I'm a workaholic
Them X's
to stress
I'll have them folks cuttin a motherfuckin why in yo' chest
[Bushwick Bill]
I'm dyin to wet, any cocksucker, that fuck with Chuck
Cause you know
(Yeah aye)
Used to get the cops called by the neighbors
F*** that s**t man I ain’t got no neighbors
They don’t know I’m down for that s**t man
She
already in first place let me break it down so I don't sound like a disgrace,
Girl we going back in time, Hit the gas sit on the line, brining you back in
Y'all skeet skeet motherfuckers (ay yo Little Jon)
Y'all skeet skeet God damn (I don't think they see this one coming)
Ay yo! Check it!
I'm comin'
on her by the neck
Addicted to sex she knows I'm the best
Don't even think about checking her texts nigga
Man wanna rap like London
Man wanna rap like New
I'm trying to get to you
Tryna go by through Miami so they can
But she can't touch it in Miami
Freewave, you know how I'm boming
Yeah pop out, pop up
Florida Georgia Line! Thank you so much!
Thank y'all for changin' our life
We love y'all so much, Nashville
Nashville, we love y'all!
life and practiced it
Pay attention, none of this is happening by accident
Listen, I don't slack a bit
Game plan solid, no cracks in it
Said I want
in Florida, yeah
She singin' Hotel California
We gonna ball, yeah we gonna ball
I'm on my own, all on my own (yeah)
Don't try to play me now
who's gonna be right by his side)
And I'm gonna be with him (I know you will)
On that midnight train to Georgia
(Leavin' on the midnight train to Georgia
Georgia
Linked in my resume not recorded
I know i ain't been around but
Life got me puzzled I'm tryna get that in order
Still I'mma Go though my days but
don't even know what I'm
Sayin' but tonight I'm 'bout
To take y'all bitches and have me an orgy
The remake! Ho-ho! (Ha ha haha)
Who did this one, huh?
every time
And I declare to my soul when you hear those ages roll
You better know I'm gonna get my share of mine
I been to Georgia on a fast train,
the same and I'm so glad of it
I don't want no little ol' danish rolls, I must have ham and grits
And my woman does look good in her T-shirt, standing in
ways
You wanted to hop trains
And made plans to go to Florida
But I hope you crash your fucking car
When you cross lines through Georgia
"Oh, Krystal,
a foreigner
Met her in Florida
Might've been Georgia
Shout out to Harlem
I don't remember
But I remember her
Show yea I tore it up
She wanna roll with us
Told
the Bulls home
Too much money on me, bro, hold my chrome
Nigga try to go, then you do his ass
If you know me, you know I'm never home alone
Got XDs by
But don't they love it, you know me
Freak nasty in a room trying to blow me
Like engine, engine, number nine
Homies run a train, standing in line
got a good Christian raisin' and an eight grade education
Ain't no need in y'all a treatin' me this way
I been to Georgia on a fast train honey
I
across those lines
It's probably all a waste of time
Well, if I leave this place by nine
Well then I might get home alive
I hear these songs about
machete
I been waiting years I just want the fame I'm ready
Because this is my life I can't go slow
And y'all judge but don't know
How hard I would rhyme oh
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