I get it in 'till sunrise Windows rolled down screaming ah! Hey-ey-ey' I'm so paid Number one hustla' gettin' money Why do you wanna count my money Doing ninety in a sixty five I'm a hustla' and I don't need them! One of them y'all see! I'm so paid

This is a place that I call my home Where the doors are moaning all day long, Where the stairs are leaning dusk 'till dawn, Where the windows are breathing in the light, Where the rooms are a collection of our lives, This is a place where I don't feel

We went to the beach And we went to the beach Every year, the middle of June We crammed into that Astro van Tighter than a can of sardines We fought in the back And dad got mad And mama rolled the windows down "Y'all smell the salt of the beach?"

I'll be with you from dusk till dawn Baby, I'm right here Go, give love to your body But you'll never be alone I'll hold you when things go wrong It's only you that can stop it Can you feel it through All of the windows Inside this room

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Why don't hook up the old Winnebago Baby, why don't we go Rolling down a two-lane Park it right, by the lake night Catch a little moonlight Open all the windows You and me in the middle of nowhere We'll build a fire As soon as we get there