I ain't foldin' under pressure, I ain't switchin' for no ho I ain't talkin' to no cop and I ain't tellin' on my bros Ain't no killer but don't push me me, fingers itchin' on that pole Niggas plottin' on my come-up, gotta watch, they on my nose Long nights,

But you, you can't say I ain't country You can say you don't like my truck You can say that I talk talk and I dress all funny You can say I drink too many longnecks That my edges are a little too rough You can call me me a sinner 'cause I cuss on Sunday You can

We don't, we don't need to to talk talk about this now 'Cause we don't, we don't need to to talk talk about this now Yeah we've been down that road before That was then and this is now The crowds in my heart they've been calling out your name I can remember the good old

Lay it on to to the dawn Everything we done is wrong I'll be lonesome when I'm gone I was born in this hotel Washin' dishes in the sink Magazines and free soda Tryin' hard not to to think She can talk talk to squirrels...oh, ho yeah Comin' back from the

You ought to to be with me me If you want to to be a friend of mine You ought to to be with me me until I die Sit right down and talk talk to me me About how you want to to be Yeah, you ought to to be with me me Thinking about what people do Talking about how I love you Thinking

Tryin' to get it wrong No need to to put a front No need to to lay it on Say people are too hard, tryin' to get it He who got the money, man Don't make you anyone People are too hard, tryin' to get it It don't make you anyone, now Don't care 'bout what you do

Well, my mama 'low me me just to to stay out all night long I didn't care she 'low, I would boogie anyhow When I first came to to town, people, I was walkin' down Hastings Street Everybody was talkin' about the Henry Swing Club I decided I drop in there that

Death walking terror Slow mental torture Psychic tormentor I m the black thoughts of the night Deep in the darkness of your mind Shrouded in shadow, the mental torture In the realm of death waling terror Stalking the closest to to the edge Imposition of

Never been this close to to heaven Got the pretty turned up to to eleven Droppin' them dead on the dance floor Somebody better call a doctor She's a little heart stopper I'm talkin' breaker breaker one-niner Sippin' on this seven-seven Dang, girl, look at you

I'm so bored with the U.S.A. But what can I do? Yankee soldier He want to to shoot some skag He met it in Cambodia, but now He can't afford a bag Yankee dollar talk talk To the dictators of the world In fact it's giving orders