Pensacola - Lyrics - Relish - Joan Osborne

Title: Pensacola
Album: Relish
Artist: Joan Osborne
Composer(s): Robert Andrew Hyman, Rick Chertoff, Joan Osborne, Eric M. Bazilian

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Lyric:
Well, I found him in Pensacola
In a trailer in the sand
The man from the picture
Creased and yellowed in my hand
Creased and yellowed in my hand

He was squinting and stubbled
And standing in the door
He said, "If you've come to take the car away
I don't have it anymore
I don't have it anymore"

He got the gospel on the radio
And the gospel on TV
He got all of the transcripts
Back to 1963
Back to 1963

He said, "I sold my blood for money
There wasn't any pain
But I just can't stand the feeling
It's in someone else's veins
It's in someone else's veins"

Momma took me aside
And she tried to change my mind
She said, "Don't waste your time in looking
There's nothing, nothing left to find
Nothing, nothing left to find"

So I left him in Pensacola
In a trailer in the sand
The man from the picture
Creased and yellowed in my hand
Creased and yellowed in my hand

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If You Can Do Anything Else - Lyrics - George Strait

Title: If You Can Do Anything Else
Artist: George Strait
Composer(s): Billy Livsey, Don Schlitz

Lyric:
Would you like to live in Houston
Where the cowboys come to town
Or maybe Pensacola
Where the sun shines all year 'round

Or even New York City
Where the city never sleeps
I'm offering you the option
Before you get in too deep

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

There's work up in Seattle
If you don't mind the rain
San Diego to Savannah
They'd all be glad you came

But life with me would always be
A roller coaster ride
You won't hurt my feelings
Whatever you decide

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

This place might look real good right now
But lookin' good don't last
But if you choose it, anyhow
I'll give you all I have

If you can do anything else
Baby, be good to yourself
You can find a nice place, have a good life
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright

You can make a new start
You can see yourself clear
If you can do anything else, do it
But if you can't, baby, you can you stay right here

Baby, you can you stay right here
Oh baby, you can you stay right here
Baby, you can you stay right here

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Rags 2 Riches - Lyrics - U Gotta Feel Me - Lil' Flip

Title: Rags 2 Riches
Album: U Gotta Feel Me
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): William Gibbs, Wesley Eric Weston, Oscar Salinas, Juan Salinas

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Lyric:
It was all a dream
We finally made it
From point A to point B
And we came from

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

I push drop top, I push a mazarratti
I got five screens in my black denali
You know the ladies love us, you know the niggas hate us
We learned to make the money, don't let the money make us

We can't fuck with you fakers, we keep a gat for jackers
Them shots will hit your ass, harder than a linebacker
I got a chip on my shoulder, I got three clips in my holster
Let's get it on nigga before I split your dome nigga

I'm nominated this year, we need a Grammy nigga
I'm at the Source Awards down in Miami nigga
I used to be broke, now we paid in full
We back to back, back to back like the Chicago Bulls

We came a long way, you shouldn't have made a left
When we made a right, you went the wrong way
Now we comin' up, y'all niggas goin' broke
We got our own weed, y'all still borrowin' smoke

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

I fuck with bad hoes, you already know
I got three chicks in Pensacola and two in Mehico
And we thuggin', rollin' on dubs
I can't quit like snoop, we smokin' our bud

Nigga you not hard, you just a pop star
You sweet in the middle, you remind me of a pop tart
You had a head start but you in last place
That's what you niggas get for movin' at a fast pace

We number one for reela, just fire up the killa
And if you want a show, just wire us the scrilla
We came to bring the pain and y'all need baling to chain
Would'a bought the watch, we got special rocks

'Cause we got extra glocks with a few extra shots
When I reflect the that, you get extra knocks
We got Lexus drops, our paper never stops
Colver G's on top and we extra hot

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Me and Will Lean came up from rags 2 riches
(What?)

Rags 2 riches
(What?)
Rags 2 riches
(What?)
When clover G's pull up we got the baddest bitches
Yep

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Life Is Just A Tire Swing - Lyrics - A1A - Jimmy Buffett

Title: Life Is Just A Tire Swing
Album: A1A
Artist: Jimmy Buffett
Composer(s): Jimmy Buffett

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Lyric:
I remember the smell
Of the creosote plant
When we had to eat on Easter
With my crazy old uncle and aunt

The lived in a big house
Antebellum style
And the wind would blow across the old bayou
When I was a tranquil little child

Life was just a tire swing
Jambalaya is the only song I could sing
Blackberry picking, eating fried chicken
Never knew a thing about pain
Life was just a tire swing

In the early summer
My folks packed me off to camp
Me and my cousin Baxter
And out pup tent with a lamp

But in a few days Baxter went home
And left me by myself
But I knew that I'd stay, It was better that way
And I could get along without any help

Life was just a tire swing
Jambalaya was the only song I could sing
Chasing after sparrows with rubber tipped arrows
Knowing, I could never hurt a thing
Life was just a tire swing

And I've never been
West of New Orleans or East of Pensacola
My only contact with the outside world
Was an RCA Victrola

Then Elvis would sing
And then I'd dream about expensive cars
Who would have figured, that twenty years later
I'd be rubbing shoulders with the stars
Life is just a tire swing

In the early morning, on an Illinois road
I fell asleep at the wheel
But was quickly waken up
By a Ma Bell telephone poll

A bunch of Grant wood faces screaming
Is he still alive?
But through the window I could see it hanging from the tree
And I knew that I had survived

Life is still a tire swing
Jambalaya is the best song I can sing
Blackberry picking, eating fried chicken
Though, I finally learned a lot about pain
Life is just a tire swing

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Mission From God - Lyrics - Offspring

Title: Mission From God
Artist: Offspring
Composer(s): Dexter Holland

Lyric:
Never knew where to go
Never used to go to at night
Thinking, but I didn't know
Never could seem to get it right

But I've made up my mind
Yeah, I've made up my mind
I wanna feel important
I wanna feel alive

Don't talk to me
Don't talk to you
You know I'm lying
You know the truth

Yeah, I'm on a mission from God
It sounds kinda crazy but I like it a lot
I'm an answer to the man up above
It's me he's speaking of

Yeah, so I'm just a fortunate son
Everybody wants to be the chosen one
I'm on a mission
I'm on a mission from God

I went to Pensacola just to get an opinion
A perfect California get it straight in my mind
Take a new road, take a new direction
Maybe going to get it right

But I've made up my mind
Yeah, I've made up my mind
I wanna feel important
I wanna feel alive

Don't talk to me
Don't talk to you
You know I?m lying
You know the truth

Yeah, I'm on a mission from God
It sounds kinda crazy but I like it a lot
I'm an answer to the man up above
It's me he's speaking of

Yeah, so I'm just a fortunate son
Everybody wants to be the chosen one
I'm on a mission
I'm on a mission from God

If I could save the world, I might do it
I just might do it, now it?s up to me
So are you worth it?
Are you really worth it?
If I can save the world

Yeah, I'm on a mission from god
Sounds kinda crazy but I like it a lot
I'm an answer to the man up above
It's me he's speaking of

On a mission, on a mission, on a mission
A mission, a mission, mission, mission
Mission, yeah, I'm on a mission

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Get Crunk - Lyrics - Lil' Flip

Title: Get Crunk
Artist: Lil' Flip
Composer(s): Anthony Sears, Wesley Weston, Estil Hobbs, Christopher Gallien, David Banner, Ronald Thomas

Lyric:
For the hoe ass niggas
This for the niggas, hoe ass niggas
Look at the nigga right next to you, look at him
Is he real, is that nigga real, is that girl real
Is that girl real, huh

He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If that nigga owe you money, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If that hoe won't let you fuck, she a hoe, she a hoe
He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If he don't wanna sell you weed, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If she don't wanna give you head, she a hoe, she a hoe

They call me Thunder Cat 'cause I got so many hoes
They call me cookie man 'cause I sold so many O's
Did a lot of shows, made a lot of cash
Slid out the Benz, jumped in a Jag
Jumped out the Jag, then I hopped in a Hummer
Guess what I drop, underground this summer
But get ready, for the shit about to hit the air
And bitch you ain't smoking endo, so I don't care

He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If that nigga owe you money, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If that hoe won't let you fuck, she a hoe, she a hoe
He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If he don't wanna sell you weed, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If she don't wanna give you head, she a hoe, she a hoe

Say flip, look at all these hoes
Some are girls but it's niggas also
I'm tired of fellin' tention, when walking in places
Niggas is hating, I'm fin to hurt they faces
Change the paces, winning the races
Money I'm making, cookies a nigga baking
Feeling my status, above average
Lil Ron be ready for all that static

We got automatics, nigga we still thuggin'
Nigga we still hustlin', all the hoes still loving
The way that we flowing, the cars that we driving
The way that we hustle, that's the way we surviving
Going to shows, going to clubs, riding on blaze, riding on Dubs
We from the south, we country as hell
Y'all smoking brown weed, we got that funky smell
The dro and the do-do, the blueberry endo
Riding on low-lows, flip there go the po-pos
Step out, let me see your license and your insurance, nah 'cause

You a hoe, you a hoe, you a hoe, you a hoe
If the laws pull you over, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If she want child support, she a hoe, she a hoe
He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If he fucked up your car, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If she tear up your Bentley, she a hoe, she a hoe

I ain't never been the type to be in love with a hoe
Instead I'm trying to leave out the club with a hoe
A basket case, I spit in a bastard's face
Walk in, crash the party and trash the place
Fuck it I tried to tell 'em, some niggas wouldn't like it
Too bad, you should of seen it coming like a psychic
Then it's, back to the Benz that's sitting on chrome men
Waving at the hoes, yelling aiight then

He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If that nigga owe you money, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If that hoe won't let you fuck, she a hoe, she a hoe
He a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe, he a hoe
If he don't wanna sell you weed, he a hoe, he a hoe
She a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe, she a hoe
If she don't wanna give you head, she a hoe, she a hoe

Ki's from over seas for me, that's just some cain
30 G's and robbing lanes, that's just some change
Bows from them hoes, you know, that's just them thangs
Listen to my pimp game, listen to my pimp game
Yeah, fuck 'em, my nuts let 'em suck 'em and let 'em go
Mississippi, p-p-pimping, mayne fa sho
Coming down, gripping grain up on the do'
On the flo man you slow and not knowing that she's a hoe
You give her all your feelings, she giving me all your do'
I'm shopping all day for polo and hydro
Weed greed man, her pussy is what you need
I'll fuck her in the puss, she giving you all them seeds

All my down south niggas get crunk, get crunk
And all my eastcoast niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the westcoast niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the up north niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the midwest niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the K.C. niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the H-town niggas get crunk, get crunk
All the Pensacola niggas get crunk, get crunk

Whenever you see a hoe, point 'em out, point 'em out
Whenever you see a hoe, point 'em out, point 'em out
Even if you know a hoe, point 'em out, point 'em out
Whenever you see a hoe, point 'em out, point 'em out

All my Mississippi niggas get crunk, get crunk
All my Mississippi niggas get crunk, get crunk
All my Mississippi niggas get crunk, get crunk

That's all I know my nigga
Nah, for real though
Baton rouge, you know I'm talkin' bout
Oklahoma coming down and L.A.

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Monday - Lyrics - Wilco

Title: Monday
Artist: Wilco
Composer(s): Jeffrey Scott Tweedy

Lyric:
Choo-choo Charlie had a plenty good band
But he couldn't understand why no one would go
A world record players on a tour of Japan
Charlie fixin' his van with the left arm tan

He said, "Monday, I'm all high
Get me out of FLA
In school, yeah, I fooled ya
Now I know I made a mistake"

Blister on a turnpike, let me by
I only wanna wonder why when I don't die
Eww, I shot ya, yeah, I know
I only wanna go where my wheels roll

Monday, I'm all high
Get me out of FLA
I fooled ya, in school yeah
Now I know I made a mistake

Everybody's wonderin', "Where he'd go?"
He must be down in Pensacola hidin' from the snow
The world record players on a tour of Japan
Charlie's fixin' his van, he's waitin' for a postcard

And he said, "Monday, I'm all high
Get me out of TLA
Well, I cut class, in school, yeah
Now I know I made a mistake
I made a big mistake, alright"

Yeah, alright
Alright, alright
Alright
Man, I've been listen to Credence Clearwater Revival
Son of a

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Johnny Porter - Lyrics - Ry Cooder

Title: Johnny Porter
Artist: Ry Cooder
Composer(s): Bobby Ray Appleberry, Bill Cuomo

Lyric:
Well Johnny Porter was the oldest in his family
And I remember he was almost twenty one
You know I can't quite explain the situation
But he broke into his father's truck and stole a gun

Mother running down the highway screaming
Johnny it's too bad, no it's too, bad and it's too bad

Well his father wonders where he got the money
And he wonders if he got it right or wrong
Then Johnny killed a man in Pensacola, Florida
And he caught a freight train and and took off on the run

Well run Johnny run they're rolling right behind you
Run Johnny run you know they're gonna find you
You come out late at night 'cause you're running for your life
Mm, Johnny Porter, Johnny Porter, yeah, yeah

Well it's a shame the way you make your mother worry
And it hurts inside to sit and watch her cry
And it will be a long time before she knows the answer
But it won't be long before she will see ya die

Well I was standing in my front door early this morning
So sad when I heard my neighbor said
That Johnny Porter was a no good than anybody
But I hate to see him throw his life away

Now run Johnny run they're rolling right behind you
And run Johnny run you know they're gonna find you
You come out late at night 'cause you're running for your life
Oh well, Johnny Porter, Johnny Porter

Found him holed up in some dark and dirty building
Had his mother begging, please let Johnny go
That's when John fired his pistol as a warning
And he said, I was born to die by the gun

And I was born to die by the gun
Said mama, I was born to die by the gun
I was born to die by the gun

Said run Johnny run they're rolling right behind you
And run Johnny run you know they're gonna find you
You come out late at night 'cause you're running for your life
Johnny Porter, yeah it was Johnny Porter
Yeah Johnny Porter, Johnny Porter

Porter
Porter
Porter
...

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