Lyrics:
to sell?
But we live to die
We live on the edge of our life
I have some energy on my feet
You drive me crazy like the beat
You got the power in your hands.
are hardcore, you want some more
Reason that I'm squeezin' your girl
(You never please her)
So I pleased, then I threw her in the gutter
Cut her
I will love you still
You can live by yourself, you can gather friends around,
You can choose one special one
And the only measure of your words
are hardcore, you want some more
Reason that I'm squeezin' your girl
(You never please her)
So I pleased, then I threw her in the gutter
Cut her
hustling - look up in the sky it's a bird of some cain
Aye, I flip it twice and I serve in the game
Shout it "Ride fly, 20 birds on that thang"
I say shout
Me put the car in drive and me did not stop
When I get to New York I'm gonna set up shop
Bwoy!
I got a hundred guns two hundred clips
Going
feeling mad suicidal, so I think I'm gonna drive (drive)
Everything is hazy and I can't see my lanes
Demons got me seeing devil in the rain
If I put
to say
"Hello, haven't seen you on this bus before"
I gave her a look that said
"Huh, life is funny, you never know what's in store
By the way, your hair
your son," girl, don't trip about it
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, don't give me lip about it
a bullet in your mouth just like an Altoid
A cowboy
Better run when my gun makes that pow noise
Get a glimpse see how we live this country life
Visions
needed
The masters of suffering gotta
Have some relief
No more relaxing in that passenger seat
This is
Our country and our chance to redeem it
I got
three days in the showroom
That's all I had to wait
I've been good to all who've owned me
So have no fear
C'mon, boy, put your money down and get me
survive
All our homies livin' short lives, I couldn't cry
Told my mama if I did die, just put a blunt in my casket
Let me get my dead homies high
Come
Put in a hard day's work, get a good nights sleep
I know some of y'all think Colt's kinda odd
But I'm loud, proud and country by the grace of God!
your fender, quit your job lets go and make some noise
I got a tank full of gas and some room in the back
Let’s ditch this joint and we can drive it
when he said
"Hey! I can drive!", because we tried to be nice to you non-smokers
We fucking tried, okay?
You wanted your own sections in the restaurants,
Might sound a little crazy
I guess it's something that they put in my whiskey down in Tennessee
So here's your country song
Throw some boots
games with niggas cause some will smoke you out of fear
Better not be putting your trust in hoes cause they'll leave you high and dry
And if i talk that
the most powerful government in the world. And, uh, Mr. Fitzwater invited me to come here tonight to create some balance, because there has been some things
used to always tell a nigga, keep your mind on paper
Bitches in your ear, you keep your eyes on paper
'Cause a niggas definition is a killa for scratch
run up on these country boys
That's really on some country shit
Leave your ass in a ditch
Take your boots and take your shit
So don't make no wrong
counted on
Cattle in the Pasture
Livin off of last years
Record breakin bumper crop
c little left in the bank
Put some gas in tank
N Head down to the ole
used to always tell a nigga, keep your mind on paper
Bitches in your ear, you keep your eyes on paper
'Cause a niggas definition is a killa for scratch
rainin' hund'eds all around your atmosphere
(It'd be easy) you can build a mansion sky high
'Til can't nobody see the roof when they drive by
But
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