Lyrics:
The heater like Tony Montana
I guess it's what happens when you make a
Poor boy from the country a celebrity
I'm nobody special, I'm just like you
A county
Yeah I'm a country boy, but I'm a player too|All up in your city flexin' down the avenue|But I ain't mad at you dog, that's what I had to do|That
The gold of Cortés
The jewels of Pizarro
Will seem like mere trinkets
By this time tomorrow
The gold we find here
Will dwarf them by far
Oh, with all
have to get the mercury out of the old thermometer
They have through the north-facing doors to the left
By the shoe-shine boys in the lobby
have to get the mercury out of the old thermometer
They have through the north-facing doors to the left
By the shoe-shine boys in the lobby
the south side
And I still ride around wit a .45
I can't stand when a nigga play both sides
Smell the gas in the air when I blow by
Give a fuck where it is
Brian ... the babe they called Brian
Grew ... grew grew and grew, grew up to be
A boy called Brian
A boy called Brian
He had arms and legs and hands
Story of my life
My name is Johnny Cash
I’m from an old poor farm
Called Kingsland, Arkansas
Driven by the Blues
I only had to choose
Picked a rusty
I’ve reached heights and pinnacles
I’ve seen life go by off medical
Time spent wasted
Damaging my visuals
Faces, Faces
They be too identical
Talk
of this intergalactic show, emperor of all known and unknown worlds, the no one knows more than I do about anything, mr grab em by the pussy, president,
let my good girl catch you here
Ain't no tellin' what poor little Lucy Mae do
She left one Christmas coming by that afternoon
Next time I seen her boy
really a good bunch of boys and these gentlemen have been with
me a long time
And just this year we've been to a lot of foreign countries
We've been
on
The Lord is a virgin forest
The Lord is a forest ranger
The Lord is a meal for the poorest of the poor
A welcome door to the stranger
Tears and flowers
a blackberry
Bald-ass head but my nipples
Still hella hairy
Lookin' like a dreamcatcher on a
Set of man titties
I'm a country boy, I don't fuck with the city
all right by me
Well I'd stake my claim but my mule got lame
How lucky can a poor boy be
Don't you know that some bum
Stole my pig pet
Don't ask me
the light
Kick it sideways plowin through that red clay
Cause there ain't no better way no better way better way yeah
Country boys we're gettin it done put
there posses jimmies rustled
Sure
Pussy dies while the lies and the cheats
Try to take paradise time on the backs of the poor and the weak
They quote
And so, my fellow Americans
Ask not, "What your country can do for you?"
Ask what you can do for your country?"
And now, back to New York
Hard
And so, my fellow Americans
Ask not, "What your country can do for you?"
Ask what you can do for your country?"
And now, back to New York
Hard
children,
Abandoned by their poor families,
End up on the street to face cruel reality.
The boy very rarely sees the daylight,
Hidden by darkness he's
stop you the type of nigga
Hit the mall but do not shop
Play against us? Boy
I bet they'd quit by halftime
Unky got the blues and the
Yellow like
after
You get a home take care of your home
You can go back and ugh!
I'm getting courted by the bosses
The Edgars And Doug Morris-es-es
Jimmy I's
like us, damn
Poor Isis, that's his mama name
Mama ain't strong enough to raise no boy, what's his father name?
Shorty never knew him, though he had
Rolls buy them tailor made clothes how long will good times stay
A poor boy ways and hard time days just six strings away
[ Guitar ]
I met a girl bout
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