Lyrics:
There used to be a main street cross the country
And that good ol' road would take you all the way
From clark and ogden street up in chicago
I
drank, sippin' Wock by the paint
Rich nigga, I buy you my friendship with the bank
My boujie bitch be actin' like she loyal, but she ain't
Fell in love
he didn't quite
Bob and Mae come up from little town
Way down by lake Texoma where he coaches football
They were two A champions now for two years
where you from?
I might be loud cause I'm sure proud of the little town where I'm from
Where I come from, old fashion ain't nothing new
Where the hollow
my reign, it was the same old same,
"To the ba with the ba", that street-talk game,
So if you ever, let me make this clear,
If you ever think that
stupid paid
I'm tryna get stupid rich, tryna do stupid shit
Try and ball, bitch, forever, whenever, however
Old pride country nigga, campaign
a forty-year old feel like a young lady
I admit I fell in love with her frame
And to make her feel special I let her call me by my government name
Her panties
nice a guy to say they're lyin'.
Now I've been makin' love professionally since I was only six years old.
And I really learned the way to wiggly wag
the interstate
Her old Dodge parked by an iron gate
She always took the scenic route
She always picked the low hanging fruit
The fruit falls far from the family
and I together Forever
A love so tender
Sitting with you by the old oak tree
Where we used to be so free
I was scared that you would run from me
And I
that?"
Motherfucker came straight from the mid-west
Love me the south confederates
I ain't ever heard no better shit
Y'all sound a lot like Cheddar Bob
You
buy a horse
And give him a nice saddle
I had a crush on an old
Black mare I named Joy
I'm ready to start a new life
I'm ready to travel the country
In
I need’s some old Texas swing
Bob Wills, he means everything
To cut a rug with my country queen
Yeah, I’ll be doin’ just fine
All I need’s an old
a travelin' soul
Seekin' truth along this road
Well the towns that pass my windows
They all start to look the same
Overrun by corporate greed
Disguised
and well
In this one truck town
We're doing just fine
Without a Starbucks line
We'd rather unwind with a 12-pack down an old back road
Fire it up find
WHERE I BELONG
Written by Twila LaBar
Twenty-three
Full of ambition, fancy free
Loaded up my Chevy, had to leave
That town far behind for
It's the same old story
By the end of the week
Ain't much going on here
Ain't got no girlfriend
Or boyfriend just to be clear
A little trouble is
Country cooking out front by Miss Mabel
Ahh ohh
That sign stops people from miles around
From outta state and outta town
The good Lord knows he was gettin
help
In our land of milk and honey, there's a man who is counting the stars
His name is old Bob, talk to him if you meet him, he is the one who will bark
of town on a business trip, Not too far away
Passing through a little place I knew from yesterday
Those old shops were falling down – the garage
me with her friends
Holding pom-poms in her hands
On Friday nights, we'd drive her daddy's truck to the old swimming hole
I'd steal a kiss by
I am not going to leave you
Not for good
You are the real one
I am your fool
Fooled by the night
Drinking the poison
Enough to get right
This country is a disaster
Seems beyond repair
They say we are great and we'll be great again
But all I see is despair
Cause the people are crying
That can't be stolen by Uncle Sam
On the outskirts of a small town
Where I can watch the sun go down
c good old treasury dime
It ain't much but it's mine
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