Lyrics:
Rodeo-odie oh, woo hoo (woo hoo)
Oh, this is our country
Yeehaw!
Patsy Cline, anytime, turn up Johnny Cash (Cash)
Love who you love, 'cause it changes in
tell me chill, cause they be feelin' the same
But chase the cash and stackin' money, only way we maintain
Big old diamond rollie, hit up johnny ice my
the real deal
But you play what nobody feels
You sing about Johnny Cash
The man in black would've whipped your ass
And I don't think Waylon done it
nice
Whatever your hue
You'll respect me and I'll respect you
Babe Ruth's hitting balls with Johnny Cash
The score's 6 love Bette Davis and Arthur Ashe
Parody of Jackson by Johnny Cash (G. Rogers/E. Weeler), Bexhill Music Corp. (ASCAP)/Quarter Music Inc. (ASCAP)
New lyrics by Cledus T. judd and Chris
lutando.
‘’Tô na correria pra fazer meu cash.
Mas em ninguém mano, eu tô pisando.
No fone Danny boy do Johnny cash.
No meu funeral eu vejo tocando.
Tô na
on for so long
We're out, the jukebox plays "Jumping Jack Flash"
She says "I love Johnny Cash, the man in red"
I turn my head and pretend not to hear
And a little bit of faith that one day, they just might come true
I'm a lucky man
As long as I got this old guitar
I'll be
Johnny Cash in my backyard
Playin'
like lemon limes
Squirt obey your thirst, fashion lines
Between beauty and beast, I walk the line
Johnny Cash, I'm a real G
I cut myself today to see
tires
Down a dirt road
In Nashville, In the summertime, In 1996
I was listenin' to my dad and Johnny Cash
Doin' chain gang and talkin' trash with
Schon gut Johnny
Aber was ist mit meinem Geld
Welches Geld
AC hat gesagt du hast ein paar Scheine für mich
Was du nicht sagst
Was bin ich dir
Johnny Cash
She won’t be my first, I won’t be her last
Imma dive in, in the liquor
If I black out, I won’t forget ya
Live is so sweet got my head in
Brooklyn fast-talker
Big jewelry-sporter, sippin Johnny Walker
She bought me this drink, she's flashin her cash
She passin me hints like she want to give me
trynna get by
Day to day struggling with shit so you get high
And staying drunk on the regular
Talking dope talk on your cellular
But in this game
in her titties
Bitch I got the cash in a rubberband
I got the glock already cocked, boom!
Fucking with a nigger meet my muthafucking goons
Sorry for
a bag full of money knocking at the door
I'm bout to pour it out the bag
Count it on the floor
Big bag of rubber bands by the night stand
In the wee
yeah, yeah and oh yeah
It's comin' back to me
Hank Williams and Johnny Cash
Belive me man they and talkin' trash
Like how to handle Folsom prison blues
Rock and roll use to be about Johnny Cash
Yeah whatcha think about that
Well I'm a crazy son-of -a-(bad word)
But I know I'm gonna make it big
beyblade
To de fuga nessa Fireblade
Brilho me sinto igual Johnny dang
Conto cash junto com minha bae
É que eu vim de longe pra fazer isso bem
Ela nem
Just a pain-in-the-ass Johnny
Cash middle finger
No shooting up drugs, no quitter is a winner
Nothing ever comes like it did
When you were in it
Keeping
still setting up shop
I got my mind and my cash right, a bad wife
Gripping a bag tight while y'all living a mad life
I chase down niggas, shake down
together
I Want my private space invaded
By a breathing being
Not some random generated
Words from a machine
If you are Johnny Cash can i be June
I hope we
con menos ganas de na'
Con ganas de saber na', con ganas de mucho rap
Con ganas de mucho cash ¿Tú, la vida 'e Johnny Cash?
A mí dame una Tommy Gun
¡Y
close the place down we don't give a damn
Throw me a twenty in the tip jar, I'll play you some ole Johnny Cash
Make it a hundred and I'll even play
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