Lyrics:
George
Oh, thank you
That means a lot to me.
We saw you talking to Redmond from Texas
Yeah
Did you get one of the commisions?
We talked
ARTHUR: Well, I AM king...
DENNIS: Oh king, eh, very nice. An' how'd you get that, eh? By
exploitin' the workers -- by 'angin' on to outdated
sing like George Jones
Spend all my nights in little barrooms
Tryin' to make a name for myself
Couple dollars in my tip jar just hopin' to get by
Maybe
me.
Now you can't find a George Jones classic, in a big black book of hymns.
Oh but I'm living proof that Jesus saves in a smoky place like this.
okay, I support you
I go to all your games, and you can't sing a lil' song for a brotha
I hope you go bald, oh, you already bald
Basketball Jones
okay, I support you
I go to all your games, and you can't sing a lil' song for a brotha
I hope you go bald, oh, you already bald
Basketball Jones
Let me smoke a blunt right now and get in my zone
Akademiks said Freddie Gibbs got beat up by Jim Jones (word)
I'm not a big fan of his the streets
in sandra Bland
My heart hurt to see how it all would end
I am Sandra Bland i am George Floyd
DJ Screw in Texas, I love you
Shout out Trae the Truth
CAME HERE FOR
THEY'VE GOT ME THROUGH IT BEFORE
BY GEORGE
IT'S STRAIT OR JONES FOR SURE
MIGHT AS WELL PLAY NOTHN'
IF YOU DON'T PLAY SOMETHIN' BY GEORGE
I can't endorse it
Keep pushing the line I can never forfeit
Iont want none ya love if you gotta force it
Texas Niggas Get The Money
Texas Niggas Get
clarity
Will push you out of hell
And your confidence will benefit
If you ain't by yourself
All these lonely thoughts
They bottle up
But I hope you get help
Yeah, I'm chillin' on a dirt road
Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones
Smoke rollin' out the window
An ice cold beer sittin' in the console
a minute"
Yeah, I'm chilling on a dirt road
Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones
Smoke rollin' out the window
An ice cold beer sittin' in
a minute"
Yeah, I'm chilling on a dirt road
Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones
Smoke rollin' out the window
An ice cold beer sittin' in
fuckin' mouth (he won't)
Live at the Oscars, you can't make up this story
Her boo August Alsina got beat up by Tory
Jada probably called him to see if he
Gotta do what I gotta do
Yeah
Uh, all my exes live in Texas like I'm George Strait
Or they go to Georgia State where, tuition is handled
By
and pick a number
'Cause you can't be choosy when your this alone
Won't you talk to me Texas let me hear that drawl
I spent my last five dollars on this one
for Texas, nigga
Bitch, I hear ya talkin'
You about that shit, then take that off
Fake ass niggas gotta lay down
Reppin' H-Town, now a nigga can't play
and you know we will
We don't mash in this olds-mobiles
Ride to ya block slow as hell
Look for you fucks, unload the shells
A nigga get caught, then please
you know
To get up off their things
Get up, get up, yeah, alright
Miss Jones, Miss Jones
Ain't no one above ya, Miss Jones
Miss Jones, Miss Jones
Oh
Say what you want to say
But, motherfucker, I'm still Flosja, dude
Fake all
Fucking with the boy, get your face cut
Then I ride by with your bitch, she
By the time you gettin' out you gon' have a grandson
Fuck you bitch I'll see you in hell bitch!
Fuck that!! Fuck that!! Fuck, get off me! Fuck you
Been gone, so long, I can't wait to get back home
Home to the Lone Star State, another day I just can't wait
Look out boys, I'm headed your way
I
started pumping like a kid drum bumping on a band stand
Now she's like a melody that I can't get out of my humpty-dumpty head
She's a beer drinking hell
Discuss these you cant get the hell out of texas by george jones Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In