Lyrics:
We'll be on time or we're leavin' the rails
Casey Jones climbed in the cabin...
Dead on the rail was a passenger train blood was a boilin' in Casey's
would've done that
Put em in the corner give em a dunce cap
Put em in the sky right where the suns at
Marathon by the way that I run that
Kickin em out
a victim of circumstance
Caught between could've been and could be
Paralyzed by should've been and should be
One hand on the throttle and one foot in
A thousands parts a pound of heart an ounce of eyes
Announcing now the doubt in mouth pronounces a count of lies
Chocula counts by the counts of 5,
I like a 4x4, make sure the back is wide
Can't be scared of the slugs, full throttle love
Stuck in the mud, wheels spinning
Engines roaring and girls
hand me the bottle-I
Put that coupe in a throttle
Dripped my wrist with a waffle
I'm so sick, I'm so awful
Damn
Leave them holy no gospel
Shit
Make them
and pouring more out the fucking bottle
Four door, we score more then hit the throttle
And we are what they adore so they gon' fucking follow
But I'm pillow
coal miner all of my life. Layin' down track in the hole.
Gotta back like an ironwood, bit by the wind. Blood veins blue as the coal. Blood veins blue
Swim (Swim, swim, swim...) in crystal waters
My breath (My breath, my breath, my breath...) stolen by the cold
I’m home again, I can live again
Today
ScME
c
Fun Way
Fun Way
Fun Way
ScME
c
Sun Day
ScME
c
Fun Way
Fun Way
Fun Way
Where my it wit the stick in her
I let her go
Let her go
Now heir friends
Stay in the water like lobster
Aye she got a big peach like cobbler
She on the top of my lid like a bottle
She like the way I push like a throttle
of niggas not
Smoking for my dead homies while I ride around
Follow me into a land where Impalas squat
Young niggas with hammers and daily body drop
Ogs
of niggas not
Smoking for my dead homies while I ride around
Follow me into a land where Impalas squat
Young niggas with hammers and daily body drop
Ogs
nightmares about my mama getting beat up in the yard
Wake up feeling like half a human
Hit the studio and unleash this guilt and regret
For my lack of union
Don’t drive too fast, slow down, relax
Lay in the sun and take it in as the walls you built start crumblin’
I blow my throttle so that I might find what
get your head in a crutch
Dominate you, been better than blunt, get deader then done
You think you've won, a bit of a nudge
The throttle clutched, smoke
agenda
Pushes through,
I abuse the rotting dead
No longer bound
By orders now,
Destruction is all I see
Appalling crimes,
My final goal,
I bathe in
a model
Put in a pack, now we smoking on throttle
Got him hit with a pump
Now we smoking this gas
Smooth with a chop' like I play for the Jazz
Had this ho
a model
Put in a pack, now we smoking on throttle
Got him hit with a pump
Now we smoking this gas
Smooth with a chop' like I play for the Jazz
Had this ho
Did you hear what they said on TV
And then a guy in a porsche with his radio hit his born
And told us the news
He said, the president's dead, he was
In broad daylight get right
Just been through it all man
Blood sweat and tears
Niggaz is dead and shit
What the fuck else can happen yo?
We done
knew by the engine's moan
That the man at the throttle was Casey Jones
He pulled up within two miles of the place
There number four stared him straight
by one
It's gonna be a long night trynna find the end of the bottle now I'm going full throttle and I'm alright
With leaving your name in the tail
on
Days are getting longer, resentment burns like the sun
Stuck in this cage, silent rage, the truth hurts dead on
Do the best you can, make your plan, keep
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