Lyrics:
Well how do you do, young Willie McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while ´neath the warm summer sun
I've been
never heard a waylon Jennings song
She’s never been a fan of
Willie Nelson so there ain’t
No way in hell we’ll get along
She told me she thinks country
I can get lucky again
Maybe I can get lucky again
No, no
Don't know where he's gone now
But I'm looking to love
Looking up at the sun
Burning up in
off
While Bush old ass on t.v. playin' golf
But when you come to my house with that draft shit
I'ma shoot your funky ass bitch
A nigga'll die for
from dreaming...
Then I woke up from dreaming
OLD BRUSH ARBORS
(Darrell Edwards - G. Ardis)
« © '66 Glad Music »
(Old Brush Arbors by
Catfishin', skinny dippin', bonfires, big tires
Willie Nelson, candy meltin' summer sun, shootin' guns
Hot dog holly golly dagnabbit
I ain't gotta sell my
away
I'm a lucky old man, I get to fish another day”
cll Red had was a sawmill shack
Had a red bone dog in the pen in the back
Shotgun hanging by
new country is all about me but I love some Johnny Cash, Waylon, and Willie.
Respect the old school and make room for the new
Now tell me you don't
a southern drawl,
Acts like Toby Keith, but sounds a lot like Tim McGraw
But if he's country I'll kiss your ass,
And throw all my Willie Nelson records
2) (Willie The Kid)
Then Rocafella break up
My hat cocked like the old Bleek
My gat cocked
By my side like obliques
No slow leaks uh
I'm eating
And the beer in the fridge is so co-co-cold
You think I'm lucky then touch me, watch me
Maybe I'm the incarnation of Old King Cole (Not so old)
And though
the black tux over there with Lucky
Bring my heater, niggaz might try to slug me
Take me out in back of the club and buck me, and touch me
I felt a hand tug
back in Tennessee
She's savin' all her sweet love for me
And I'm rollin' home
Got to keep these big wheels hummin' their song
And if I'm lucky, by
They're the ones who made the blues
Who's gonna fill their shoes? (That's what I need help about)
Down in the delta. Old sun house
Hard luck
and stuck a funnel in my mouth
And force fed me nothing but sauerkraut
Until I was twenty six and a half years old
That's when I swore that someday
Imprisoned by bright projections
I'm feeling like I am Nelson
The victim of my own passion
Became the man they laughed at
The clown part
Reckless with his wild
the black tux over there with Lucky
Bring my heater niggaz might try to slug me
Take me out in back of the club and buck me and touch me
I felt
Yeah the sun setting
I could see the future happen, talk bout Armageddon
Golden treasures, took some shrooms and now my palms are sweatin
You can't
and they're gone so fast
And they're gone so fast
So hold on the ones who really care
In the end they'll be the only ones there
When you get old and start
stunner, big titty bank teller
Had my wife here with her so a hater can't tell her
Presidential suite, got a fuck boy jealous
I'm the Nelson Mandela
you saw me go mud to da sun
W/it huh yum
clways seem to have the gleam you got lucky huh
Zzz
Zzz
Zzz
Y'all still sleeping on me huh
Even when you saw
It's Iceberg... Theory
Yo, if you're hearing me consider yourself lucky
Consider yourself blessed
Shoe string sanity
For pockets double knotted
Til'
Sipping on rum in my cup as the sun sets over the hills of Carolina
Giddy Up
Buried Alive
By that 9-5
No room to dance
In that little high rise
I am such a lucky man
Vacation in the Vatican
Everybody come with me
Summer in the Holy See
It's summertime I'm leaving home
I'm sitting on a train
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