Lyrics:
Spend the summertime naturally high
By chopping wood, the next one or five
Saving our money for the county fair
George Jones' supposed to be there
We got
me.
Now you can't find a George Jones classic, in a big black book of hymns.
Oh but I'm living proof that Jesus saves in a smoky place like this.
majority in the case of purely internal
affairs,--
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: --but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more--
ARTHUR: Be quiet! I
the sky is
The square mileage of earth or what pi is
I'm the shaky hand that touched George Foreman in Zaire
The same hand that punched down devils that
flyin' high (high)
Go head, fly that thing
High, high
But fly alone
You always smokin' in the house
What if my mother comes over?
You can't get up
(what?)
They was all drunk and high, shit just went too far
Megan should have never made Tory get in that car (facts)
Now we gotta try to unpack a whole
to hope
You have to give up on yourself, before you will be excited
About the hope that is yours in Christ Jesus Amen
This is George Jones, to the 3rd power
has spent most other
Nights this year the building is
Hidden in a residential neighborhood
Behind a high
Automatic gate the room reeks of
Berry-flavored
Everyone one step away
From being broke
So what you value most?
Everything must change
That's straight from Quincy Jones
Or George Benson
What you
with Sprewells on my fifth wheel
My album Who Is Mike Jones, coming soon
My album Who Is Mike Jones, coming soon
Already, I pull up on Perellis with
rip off the mask, seek the truth and just try
Like alex jones himself says brother, let me hear your war cry
Mister jones and I were really baffled by
Hand rubbing, I'm a fly on this
Chicago drive by, it's getting serious
Where your crew? Like George I'm just curious
Vaness I'm high on this beat call me
Yeah, it's talkin' blues just
In my shit-kick boots
I like to say stuff like
'fuck you' and some more
That's why you won't find my
Album at a Walmart
body of work and the album, The Negro Spirit.
Finally, in the Spirit of my Uncle, Pastor George Bullock, who was raised on the farm with his brother,
making a toast
I Go by the name of Jay Prevost
Playing those numbers in a drunken slumber
Can't be the drummer because I got to be the plumber
Pop another
on
Let the cries out
Wave a whole chicken by his
Legs near the crotch smells
Sweating bullets in the tip
Blow torching his flesh
I seen his face melt
Drip
through the night, in the pulse of the city
Synthwave love, it feels so gritty
Pixel skies, digital highs, as the city breathes
On the grid, where
That's why we go to thug mansion
That's the only place where thugs get in free and you gotta be a G
At thug mansion
A place to spend my quiet nights,
That's why we go to thug mansion
That's the only place where thugs get in free and you gotta be a G
At thug mansion
A place to spend my quiet nights,
rang now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of niggas all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're
instrumental solo in the song
Two little..
Growing up, I was surrounded by the sounds
Of all the mothers mourning their loss to heaven from this land
Like Hank,
was recording the album:
Cherry Bomb! The album!
I had a show New Year's 2015
And I haven't came out with music in a while
Damn, finally, you gonna
(tony joe white)
Willie & laura mae jones
Were our neighbours a long time back
They lived right down the road from us
In a shack just like our
He ran his wife Lerline in his place and she won
By a landslide He's most famous as the
Belligerent racist voice of the segregationist
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