Search results for 'whiskey drinkin blues by tampa red' Page #8

There's a trailer park right off 301
Where Tina sits home and waits
Jody comes home from a long night drinkin at Bobby's hideaway

Rips the door

my red lust , the journey of the stems of your root are burnt out by the spark which ignites the flame that  will never die out cause I'll be your

sorry

It's the fucking general, Vans, cut shorts
Neck covered in colored emeralds
The yellow by the blue
Look like I pissed inside your swimming pool
I'm

night with a bag she can reach in
Iron out all my problems she gon' put the crease in
We don't sleep in we just dive off the deep end
By twenty-five I

I remember how I got started with you
It had to be watching The Color Purple
One time while I was still in high school
I was fascinated by the scene

far from the binoculars
So, that smart money finna get that heat out the car
Yo, I'm K-Dot Lamar meets 2Pac Shakur
I got profiled by a few cops, too

Stay in the Lines
Don't think Just Color
Paint by Number
Stay in the Lines,
Don't think Just Color
Paint by Number
Stay in the Lines
Don't think Just

Close the opera
Hear the red and blue outside, I think our option's up
I recrossed it 'round the map, I had to line it up
I be swervin' on the waves, it's

talkin' with my accent
We held hands and waded into
That blue water
She left her flip-flops by my Red Wings on the beach

Yeah but, now I'm dodging

I'm just a man and I'm blind and I wish I could see
Born with these cards in my hand understand I'm in need
They pass me by in the night when I'm out

rock and roll 

G Bb C G
G Bb C D


VERSE 3
G
It's that blues in mississippi
F
Ankle deep in delta mud 
C
It's a shot of Lynchburg whiskey 
G
Put that

Wanna Be a Baller

Lil' Will

Sittin' Fat Down South [Clean]

1998

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit

The Body of An American

The Pogues

The Wire: And All the Pieces Matter -- Five Years of Music from The Wire

2008

The cadillac stood by the house
And the yanks they were within
And the tinker boys they hissed advice
'Hot-wire her with a pin'
Then we turned

Tick Tock

Mobb Deep

Insomnia Mixtape

2003

on the fight, we cut yo melon
Drinkin' that old English Red Bull and Blue Bull
Mean I draggin' with that cheap shit, fuck it, we was broke

Little bad ass, my

Mr. President

Bushwick Bill

Phantom of the Rapra

1995

the bodies that are left on the ground
Because the flag
Red, white and blue
And the stars from all the years you've whupped me and mines
I still see

to this, I would die for this
Put my soul into words, sing along to this
No casualties, except for me
I threw my body in a blood red sea
I take the routes

in the store, tryna get some more
Look at all of these weird names
Hit the brewery, flights by the 4
Let 'em know its Beer Gang
I got my empty cup

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit

Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit

But My eyez red like the pirus
Raaaaaaaaah
4 20 4 20 4 20
My loud strong like whiskey
My Lungs smoke chimneys
Im Rolling up like nipsey
That marathon

I was so old but I feel brand new
clways getting higher find a different kinda view
Just slippin' on my shoes
I'm walking on the blue
I'm

barreling old 17
When a man with a red blinking light was on our tail
He said you were doing 60 in a 45
But I'm gonna let you go this time
But if I catch u

When red and blue lights pulse beneath the cypress trees
When cops come knocking on your window with a torch
We will be cool when deep green eyes run