Southern Comfort
The Orwells
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Drink by drink, I think, I'm thinkin' Why not train with me this week-end? And I can't walk and I can't dance Give me a smile and then take off your pants Saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror Girls in the back, trunks full of beer Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize I'm not that open, I'm gettin' really wise Coke and rum, can I taste your tongue? Won't stop sipping till we're both numb Lose that dirt and the short black skirt Why the lip gloss and the tight white shirt? Hand down my pants, hands on my grass Got to the bottom of the bottom, but I still can't dance Like this brother with the hand full of ass Bad ass shades and a bag full of grass
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Written by: DOMINIC CORSO, GRANT BRINNER, HENRY BRINNER, MARIO CUOMO, MATTHEW O'KEEFE
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Southern Comfort Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Sep. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/931040/The+Orwells/Southern+Comfort>.
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