Lyrics:
My verbals and graphic grammar
My verbal murder stretch from
Alaska to Alabama
Get touched by my Arm & Hammer
All across the planet
Niggas crumble like
get me off 'er
Take medicine, like I'm told by the doctor
Hold your breath, smoke in my chest
But not anymore, since it lead to making mess
Like my
honours, get me off her
Take medicine like I'm told by the doctor
Hold your breath, smoke in my chest
But not anymore since it lead to making mess
Like my
chair, it always sits right here
There by the jukebox where I don't feel so alone
Every time I put my money in I hear the saddest songs
My friends
There's always one more beer you gotta drink
One more girl you gotta meet
One more song on the jukebox
Spinnin' my mind like it don't stop
Could blame
I'd better show 'em what I mean
The man don't live in Louisiana
To make me give up my Rosianna
Thought I'd haul back in Alabama
Ain't no ball and chain
Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon,
Sittin on the front porch cooling in the shade
Singin every song the radio played
Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon,
Sittin' on the front porch cooling in the shade
Singin' every song the radio
Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon,
Sittin on the front porch cooling in the shade
Singin every song the radio played
I was shipwrecked in Austin, Texas
You were barefoot and we were lost
I was supposed to play a party
My efforts have become exhausted
And glossed
She played the fiddle in an Irish band
But she fell in love with an English man
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand
Said, "Baby, I
the game, lane to lane, and keep my pimpin' together
Niggas don't understand by far back in the day
It was 'mazin' and my brother put me up on Black Star
buy you drink, drink, drink
Somewhere in honky tonk land
Where there's neon buzzin', pretty girls by the dozen
Got a cold, cold, beer in my hand
I saw her dancin' there by the record machine
I knew she must a been about seventeen
The beat was goin' strong
Playin' my favorite song
An' I
Mobile Alabama DJ
Livin' by the ocean sometimes I get the notion
To take my Jane to Alabama
We hang out in a funky little bar
They call it
Alabama, Daddy from Kentucky
She like shootin' ducks, yeah, she like shootin' bunnies
Ride me yellin' "Yeehaw", redneck shawty fuck me
Clovers in her Dad's
Nighttime drive-by, singers lullabies
Bigs askin' about songs they can't identify
Down in Alabama, baggin' grams of yams
Got dozens of killers under my
A piece of my childhood that will never be forgotten
It was just an old plywood boat
With a '75 Johnson with electric choke
A young boy two hands
Drive my search engine home
Dropped, chopped, Alabama chrome
Hey what the hell it runs, so
The day is done so
Let's have some fun so
Yours very truly
but disappeared
And the only trace of her that's left I find each night in there
'Cause she's just numbers on the jukebox that I lean on
There's
twirl
Champagne corks were bursting in the air
Gave prove through the night, my girls were still there
I'm a drum major, leading you to the flavor
oh-oh-oh)
Sittin' at the end of an empty bar
Both hands on a cold drink, yeah (oh, oh-oh-oh)
Lettin' that jukebox break my heart
Yeah baby, just me,
Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon
Sittin' on the front porch coolin' in the shade
Singin' every song the radio
Yeah, crank that truck up, load it up
With a few folks in my four by four
Seat way back, cold six pack
Window cracked, I got the good fire rollin'
_(1).jpg/300px-JukeboxTheGhost_DIAL_Paste_CortneyArmitage126A09952016_(1)_(1).jpg "Jukebox the Ghost")
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