Lyrics:
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,
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
them ol' grey mules
The farm grew to be a moneymaker
And the house he lived in grew up room by room
The boy worked hard but soon got tired
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,
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
girl, she's a sweet home Alabama
She could paint me a Birmingham, hot damn
If I could make it to Cheyenne or Amarillo by morning (by the morning)
Man,
Mobile Alabama DJ
Livin' by the ocean sometimes I get the notion
To take my Jane to Alabama
We hang out in a funky little bar
They call it
By now in New York City
There's snow on the ground
And out in California
The sunshine's falling down
And, maybe down in Memphis
Graceland's all
By now in New York City, there's snow on the ground
And out in California, the sunshine's falling down
And, maybe down in Memphis, Graceland's all
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
Alabama
Alabama
Alabama
I've been waiting
In my room
When my sun comes down
When your sun comes up
And I stopped
Looking for your eyes
In
Drive my search engine home
Dropped, chopped, Alabama chrome
Hey what the hell it runs, so
The day is done so
Let's have some fun so
Yours very truly
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
a "Thunder Road" to make the wheels roll down the highway
Yeah, we all need a "Sweet Home Alabama" when you wanna play air guitar
A little "Lean on Me" when
She was young and she was pretty a victim of a rich man's whim
When she met a wealthy gentleman Big Ben Colson and she had a child by him
Well he
I've been feelin' down in Atlanta
Immobile in Alabama
I'd rather be in traction
Than to be here where I am
Oh, you Georgia red clay
And green
Ah-ah
Yeah, yeah
She grits and glamor from Alabama
She's small town chic, and that's all I need
Grits and glamor, she's got standards
And love
From the great Atlantic ocean to the wide Pacific shore
From the queen of flowing mountain to the south bell by the shore
She's mighty tall
From the great Atlantic ocean to the wide Pacific shore
From the queen of flowing mountain to the south bell by the shore
She's mighty tall
the bottom won't you roll the window down
If ya cruisin'
I got that Trunk Muzik
Alabama's unanimous animal Yelawolf
On the eight O eight come and fade away
Southern man, you sure are pretty,
Got a smile to still the city,
And Lord, you know, you got those sleepy eyes.
Alabama sweet-talking baby,
I said, momma don't you worry
I'm gettin' by just fine out on the road
Yea tonight we play in Knoxville
And tomorrow night its back to music
four by four
Seat laid back, cold six pack
Window cracked, I got the good fire rollin'
Tennessee to Atlanta cross the street to Alabama
Yellin' out
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