Lyrics:
She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in Sin City Now the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk
home Bad attitudes, octoroon skin tones Slave food turned to soul food, collards to neck bones Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag Bet she had
a tailor, Sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a gambling' man Down in New Orleans. Now, the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk,
was a tailor She sewed these new blue jeans My sweetheart was a gambler, Lord Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs Is
It takes one to know one Back at it again Birds of a feather Until the end Stitched, patched up and sewed in I'll probably see you again Most
sewed up in stitches Your product'll win if you gots top grade, but you gotta Keep, your lawyers and your bail bondsmen paid The word on the street's is
they pulled up You niggas talk too much, get your mouth sewed up Look at my chain, know it's ice 'cause it's snowing Vivienne West but my friend
Back in 1964 you healed my broken soul Walking back from the dead and sewed my head With the sacred thread of Rock and Roll Goodbye St. Paul
Unchain my heart, baby let me be Unchain my heart 'cause you don't care about me You've got me sewed up like a pillow case But you let my love go
probably won't last in none of these jails I'm tattooed up, Levi's double sewed Chuckers No shirt, I'm back muh'fuckers! The mac muh'fuckers don't clack
and snitches Shit only killers Hoochie bitches and hot Hydraulic switches allowed On the turf where the real hogs dwell Sewed up the hood The fattest boulders
relapsed Got my hood sewed up and I don't be there (I got dawgs) Bought some chains for my niggas, what they be 'bout? Give a bitch ten Gs when she leave
a tailor, she sewed these new blue jeans My sweetheart was a gambler, Lord, down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase
the bullet holes was too much, no luck Ya get blowed up, all of you niggas goes out The surgeons say that your body can not be sewed up Hold up, and wait
a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gambling man Down in New Orleans. Now, the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk
and Low it's no Equal Front but you lookin Once I throw the hook in proceed to get cookin with the game when I sewed it Since you came thought I owed
got I'll have ya sewed up 16 shots come and get mine Fuck you motherfuckers 'cause I'm Finally livin' Big Time! I make big money livin' big time I make
Georgia blood in me So I pulled the trigger And the bullet hit him squarely in the chest Then I shot him one more time For every button sewed upon his vest
up and leavin heads swollen up On top of all that, I got the rap sewed up Hold up, with the budda thumpin' niggaz Qouta And just the teach a lesson,
started pushin weed and pushin boulders For Tony Roma on the corner till we blowed up Get it sewed up (Tormented) I don't know so don't you ask why
a tailor, Sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a gambling' man Down in New Orleans. Now, the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk,
His cap and coat are patched with the love That Margaret sewed there. Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam. And he watches the tug-boats
leavin' heads swollen up On top of all that, I got the rap sewed up Hold up, with the budda thumpin' niggas quota And just the teach a lesson, I put one
a tailor, Sewed my new blue jeans. My father was a gambling' man Down in New Orleans. Now, the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and a trunk,
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