Lyrics:
Red Sovine
Waylon Jenings, Merle Haggerd, Patsy Cline
George Jones and Tammy and a great pair of Judds
And Hank Jr. sang with Sr. on an overdub
a slap in the face my past stepped in
And promptly put an end to that
Got me back to my
Roots, boots, cowboy hats
Pick-up trucks with beer in the back
tip your hat to the teacher
Ernest Tubb - Waltz Across Texas; George Jones - White Lightning; Patsy Cline - Walkin' After Midnight; Tammy Wynette -
"Copperhead Road" yeah
Ridin' on them backroads
Tokin' on that good smoke
Radio is blastin' old George Jones
owners I just mentioned. Ceasar later married a slave girl by the name of Peggy Jones. My great, great, etc. grandmother. To this union, the following
with the Stones
Once He even opened up a three-way package
In Southern California for old George Jones
[Chorus]
The years went by like sweet
Just like George Jones and one of his gold plated chrome tin microphones
Well the only time that I ever got booed is when I busted a rap by the 2 Live
and Bourbon, blended Jack and George Jones
But I'm numb to the drink, instead I'm drunk on country songs
Verse:
Bartender pours a round of hard knocks, sipping
with Jimmy Mathis and he got a plan
And when he talk I listen to him, that's a lot of man (pops!)
He said we need to take it back to the root of it
I put
Rip George Floyd
But women
Rip Breonna Taylor
Trans people
Rip Tony McDade
And Children too
RIP 7 year old Aiyana Stanley-Jones
Killed by SWAT
Yo this
I don't put much stock in best laid plans
I like living my life by the seat of my pants
My hair on fire, I'm out in the night
Kicking my heels till
I don't put much stock in best laid plans
I like living my life by the seat of my pants
My hair on fire I'm out in the night
Kicking my heels till
Durban
You're in my soul now Durban
Part of me now Durban
The dust and diesel haze
Along the toll highways
Where beggar traders stop
By Traffic light
hundred trucks
There’ll be skinny dippin’, beer drinkin’, smokin’ fat ones
I think I hear Willy, George Jones or Hank
Buddy, make them guitars twang
Repeat
Stanley by God Terry knew exactly how it felt
To play a George Jones song in a white leather belt
With matching shoes, polyester blues
At the Pine
y'all are locked in the cellar
Ain't sayin shit like a Helen Keller acapella
And we originated "Root Beers" for ya frigid air
[So emcees had to get
Treat it like a gold mine
Forty-Nining for the lines
Ain't pushing on goal lines
Passin by on pharcydes
Tote the pill no co-sign
Pharmaceutical eye
of the rich man
I've been living this poor – well
I guess for
Forever, and I bet I will forever more
Barely eking by
Seeking out the dollar stores
For
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