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Search results for 'goin home to your mother by buck owens'
Yee yee! We've found 695 lyrics and 143 artists matching goin home to your mother by buck owens.
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anti-social (?) Run up on your mama puttin' money in her hand And you do that shit again and again and again Pull up in the 8, goin' home with a 10 And you
smiles on me I snort a line of pre-workout then pass up on the tree Your mother loves my style, thinks I am the bees knees And while I can outrun your ass,
you know I'm my mother's son Got em pissed cause they know that we goin up And it ain't no detouring us All mighty gang ain't no chumping us All mighty
you know I'm my mother's son Got em pissed cause they know that we goin up And it ain't no detouring us All mighty gang ain't no chumping us All mighty
Again Don't Blame That Nigga For Runnin Up In My House, Fool Ain't No Food In My Daughter Mouth, I'm Goin Out Too Just Think About What Your Doin,
Runnin Up In My House, Fool Ain't No Food In My Daughter Mouth, I'm Goin Out Too Just Think About What Your Doin, 'cause Buddy, Bullets Burn May God
home I got the Johnson baby powder and Cool Water cologne Now I'm fresh, dressed like a million bucks Threw on my white socks, with my all blue Chucks
just love your jazzy ways Doggy Dogg, your love is here to stay And on and on and on she kept goin' The bitch been around before my mother's born I
just love your jazzy ways Doggy Dogg, your love is here to stay And on and on and on she kept goin' The bitch been around before my mother's born I
know you too lit when you stretchin' these bands You know you on top when your enemies fans (buck) You know you too blessed when they think you
smack, slap, smack, slap, smack. Click, click, boom, stop dead in your tracks. Stick the steel in your mouth, Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck, lights out.
the choppers Probably die as a young nigga Codeine all up in the pineapple Fanta Probably die as a young nigga Keep your eyes on me baby (buck, buck, buck
Luv and my nigga Young Lay Spit that shit Cuddies perved by the corner, stout, herb Got me twisted, mo' cold killin murders Them brothers gettin'
drawn I told you in the Face Off I'll make you watch Your mother suck my dick in her grandson room And then I put you in ya place I do some more
blunt rappers, Quicker than your blaze a swisha! *aahhhh* (Crooked exhales) [Chorus: Craig Owens] Walking round with thoughts of redemption Plotting
sometimes It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under My brother's doin' bad, stole my mother's TV Says she watches too much, it's just not healthy
sometimes It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under My brother's doin' bad, stole my mother's TV Says she watches too much, it's just not healthy
Bill, but call me Chuckie Fifth Ward hard bitch, play hero and buck me Cause I'm known to pull your skull out Grip a motherfucker by his neck
Bill, but call me Chuckie Fifth Ward hard bitch, play hero and buck me Cause I'm known to pull your skull out Grip a motherfucker by his neck
day I'm a'goin' home It's not far, just close by Through an open door Work all done, care laid by Goin'ta fear no more Mother's there,
the mix, runnin' for your life Time to get home see somebody fool caught a Straight to the dome For no reason, death is still the season Everybody's scared,
can DOG DOG DOG DOG, couple of bucks couple of bucks, could have been friends but Your shit out of luck, couple of bucks couple of bucks, I helped you
woman let me be and leave me alone I wanna go home. I'm Moving On: (Hank Snow) That big eight wheeler rollin' down the track Means your true lovin'
We goin' platinum, nigga We goin' platinum Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfucker We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this
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