(If Heaven was a mile away) Would I pack up my bags and leave this world behind? Or save it all for you? Would I, fill the tank up with gas and be out the front door in a FLASH Before reconsidering, this Hell with you It ain't you it's the things you do

I've played every beer joint tavern From New York City out to Pasadena Every corn dog fair and rodeo And sold out every basketball arena In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too Graduate of Honky Tonk you My grandmother owned a night club On the

I'm gonna make it anyway It's not right, but it's okay Pack your bags up and leave And don't you dare come running back to me Close the door behind you leave your key I'd rather be alone than unhappy It's not right but it's okay Friday night you and your

I'm the MVP, I'm stupid with this rap shit! When Premier puts the needle on the record then I put it on blast Your flow's garbage, I throw it in the trash I'm the MVP, I'm stupid with this rap shit Rewind the verse, make the track do a back flip Your

Counting days ’til it’s over, my friends 'Til it’s over, my friends, count along So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you Cut her tongue, don’t believe a word she says She’s on a hunt, cooking

How 'bout you? To tell the truth I think we're the chosen few An' how 'bout you? Do you feel the way I do? Yeah, I like my country rocking', how 'bout you? Yeah, I know where I come from I don't need baggy clothes Or rings in my nose to be cool

Freddy Kruger, give 'em a nightmare Soon as you close your eyes, nigga, we right there Bags on demand Come in the middle of the night, like it's a nightmare You open your eyes, not dreamin', nigga, we right there If Young Metro don't trust you I'm 'gon

Tell me what am I doing? Yeah, real music Yo, ya just get in that, you get in that head space, ya know Somebody get the body bags, working with beats and Put the MC’s in 'em, season 'em, put 'em on a beat with me, then I’m eating 'em Get away from the

I've played every beer joint tavern From New York City out to Pasadena Every corn dog fair and rodeo And sold out every basketball arena In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too Graduate of Honky Tonk you My grandmother owned a night club On the

I've played every beer joint tavern From New York City out to Pasadena Every corn dog fair and rodeo And sold out every basketball arena In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too Graduate of Honky Tonk you My grandmother owned a night club On the