Lyrics:
out of central bullets
County jails and the lock downs up north
Said I should have it if Scarface pass the torch
Thats how they feel Jack, built much
I got you
DJ Threat
Jam Master Jay
Big Pun
B.I.G.
And Free Shyne already
We the Best
I'm from Miami-Dade County, Florida
I go by the name
peace of mind
On the westbound number nine
Sittin' on the bank of Holy Creek down by the county line
I can hear the sound of Old Boss and Lazy
you really need 'em?
When I was locked up in the county, I ain't even see 'em
I'm by my lonely, lonely
What happen to the bitches and the party?
creeps and writhes and scrapes
In Maricopa County
I woke up to the sound of screaming sirens down on Main
The hardware store was burning, I saw Wilson in
the county
Trying to find a better way
Surrounded by these debts to pay
Looking for a brighter day
But still it's all the same
Nothing new
Several distractions
parkin' that Wrangler down by the creek
And she climbs out lookin' so good, I can barely speak
I turn up an Alabama song
Pick a spot and wet a line
really tugs on your heartstrings
Oh, I wish that I could, but not in this life
Will I ever forget County Road 3105
She's like Texas by J.A.B
She wasn't
weed, funk, ya don't need
Approachin' hoochies with a passion, been a long day
But I've been driven by attraction in a strong way
Your body is bangin',
many times my memories are worn
Sometimes we’d travel right down the Green River/ To an abandoned old prison down by Airdrie Hill/ To where the air
waltz
County Road 4778
Now there's nothing behind that old gate
But the charred, blackened pile
Of a story told by fire
And each spring golden flowers
emergency now
It's really going down
Curled up by the fireside
The county sleeps tonight
their property
Word to Samson, the tongue will get you hung
I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son
I heard him cursin'
life
Love and respected by all
His jokes were the talk of the county
He knew how to make people laugh
I cried all the way to Kentucky
And then I
(singing)
King’s down to Gwinnett County
95 to the I-20
Dap, make a right on Duluth
By now they don’t know what’s the truth
Chemdog Sour got me
down
Common Sense is in your town
I said come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense is in your town
I stagger in the gatherin'
Possessed by
On a trading path, through the Carolinas
Used by Indians who braved the wind and rain
They settled down beside the raging waters
And they worked
side
Here comes Christmas
It's been packed away all year
And we're bringing it out till old Saint Nick gets here
Here comes Christmas
Winding down on one
We made Oklahoma a little after three
Randy, his brother Bob, and my old GFC
We had some moonshine whiskey and some of Bob's homegrown
We were so
this way and let your mind be free
And by the way, welcome to the party
Hey Grand master Bob that
Old school shit's fresh
But uh let's rock some of that
beach?
Remember when that crab came up and pinched your feet
When that old guy gave us all those drinks for free
Do you still get knocked down by that
a glass to it all
And raise up a glass to it all
Lift me up, my sweet baby
I'll be waiting by the old county sign
Swing me low, my sweet lady
like Cowabunga
Hope you get offended by the way I'm stunting
Won't dive in if I ain't got no rubber
We came from the bottom of the rubble
If they
on the open road - all the way down to Mexico
Out on the open road - around the U.S.A. - taking it slow
Out on the open road - crossing the county lines
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