Lyrics:
]
Yeah alrigh, now The Tennessee Three
Marshall Grant, Bob Wooten, and W.S. Holland
[The Tennessee Three Solo]
[Johnny Cash]
The Statler Brothers
How do you want it?
How does it feel?
Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game
Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real
How do you want it? (yeah)
How
How do you want it?
How does it feel?
Comin' up as a nigga in the cash game
Livin' in the fast lane, ah, for real
How do you want it? (yeah)
How
stop by here tomorrow to complete our interview
But I know what you're gonna say
I know what your bottom line is
You might have the cash
But you
to blue, yodel number one
We love Hank and Lefty
Bob Wills, Ernest Tubb, and Johnny Cash
But if we had to pin point
The start of who we are
Or who we go
I-, I-, I uh, haha, I- um, okay, uh
I don't smoke that much (aah), but (yeah), when I do
Bob Marley (woah), Bob Marley (hey)
Bob Marley (yeah),
Kentucky)
They're drinking bourbon by the batch (By the batch)
I walk that line because you love me (Love me baby)
And I wanna be your Johnny Cash, Johnny
Written and produced by Cash Clayton
Well the House of Cash just burned down
All the way to the cold hard ground
The doctors came from all over town
To see the memories scattered all
fucking self
Everywhere I go I'm dripped down blinging like I'm finna' melt
These niggas stuck in high school
Down bad all by themself
Get some cash before
It started March of sixty-four
Many years ago
We were hired by Johnny Cash
To open up his show
Four boys, a worn out Cadillac
With a road map
Thank you very much
This next song was written by a man right here in Folsom prison
And last night was the first time I've ever sung this song
So pump right out my bong
Don’t leave ‘til the whole bong gone
2 Track don’t fear my past
Hustlin’ for the cash
Grindin’ for this cash
Hustlin’
and Tom, do that, and Tom, don't do that
Count the cash, clean the oven, dump the trash
Oh your loving is a rare and a copacetic gift
And I'm a moonlight
underneath her lip (yeah)
Get a lift, guarantee I'm gonna hit
(I'm gonna hit) she love the shit I wear
Sponsored by the time of year (yeah)
Always prepared
Making country money
Making that country money
Down in Cash Cow County where the bills really grow on trees
Making that country money
Dripping like
The hottest under the sun
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, man
And you already know that, pimpin'
Cash Money Records, where dreams come true
Fuck
In Hollywood they have a different language that they speak
It's spoken by those folks who went to school for just one week
It's found inside
rink, mobs and crews would take minks
Clean streets, hustlers, crack cocaine
Gave back by throwin block parties and basketball games
A lotta cash
It started March of sixty-four
Many years ago
We were hired by Johnny Cash
To open up his show
Four boys, a worn out Cadillac
With a road map
cash
Go get you some cash cash cash
The worth of a person they judge by the cash
If your pockets empty you counted as trash
A forgotten memory blast from
The hottest under the sun
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, man
And you already know that, pimpin'
Cash Money Records, where dreams come true
Fuck
that ass
I'ma do that shit in slow motion (motion)
You got a whole lotta cash
And, nigga, you know I want it (want it)
Play with my pussy
But don't
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