Lyrics:
was summertime in Northern Michigan
Ahh Ahh Ahh
Ahh Ahh Ahh
Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It's the simple things in
was summertime in Northern Michigan
Ahh Ahh Ahh
Ahh Ahh Ahh
Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It's the simple things in
a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip
Face says I been stressed
I got a aunt getting her ass kicked by MS
Nigga, why am I here? For the look, for
I call her Hannah Alabama
(Hannah)
I call her Hannah Alabama
(HANNAH)
Tryna put you in that Prada
(That Prada)
Yea I heard you like Selene Dior
wishing I was rolling by with
Alabama High-Test
Alabama High-Test
Alabama High-Test
Got me in a big mess
Higher then a wildcat
They're gonna put me in
Her Momma named her Alabama Black
She was born just south of Memphis
Down by the river in a worn out shack
She must have walked a thousand miles
I grew up in North Alabama, back in the 1970's,
When dinosaurs still roamed the earth Speaking
Of course of the Three Great Alabama Icons
George
stuff from you
And if I hit you on your head
Boy, its got to make it black and blue
Well, I'm goin' to Alabama
Got my pistols out by my side
Well,
things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all
Igrew up in north alabama back in the 1970s
When dinosaurs still roamed the earth.
Speaking, of course, of the three great alabama icons:
George
stuff from you
And if I hit you on your head
Boy, its got to make it black and blue
Well, I'm goin' to Alabama
Got my pistols out by my side
Well,
things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all
love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all summer long
Chyeah, Renegades is back, Em the beat is sick
It's Young, Freeway, Eight miles
Let's go
Eight miles and runnin', got my seventh album droppin'
love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle
Not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing "Sweet Home Alabama" all summer long
Singing
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
1981
Went out for some smokes
Then I headed home
Alabama
Picked up by some folks
Took me to the woods
Beat me bloody
I begged them for my life
Alabama blue
Alabama blue
Alabama blue
Alabama blue
Yeah, you're strugglin'
Outside, mumblin'
Walkin' by everyone, each day, tumblin'
I
a fuck, say you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
they will not be judged by the color of their skin
But by the content of their character
I have a dream today
I have a dream that one day
Down in Alabama
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
(Aye where you from)
I'm from the A-L-A-B-A-M-A
(We ready)
Bama Bama Bama Bama
(Aye, ah we ready)
I'm from the A-L-A-B-A-M-A
(Ah we ready)
Bama Bama
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
I see
Is a girl with houndstooth on
In the stands in Tuscaloosa
Might've lost by twenty two
But I hate Alabama
'Cause that's where I lost you
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