Music's playing up and down the block Mostly Christian, blues, country, folk and southern rock It's a little piece of paradise way out here in the woods There's always something going on down in the trailerhood My neighbor Carl, he lives next door Pink

Yeah yeah yeah oh Well I'm on the Downeaster Alexa And I'm cruising through Block Island Sound I have charted a course to the vineyard But tonight I am Nantucket bound We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday Left this morning from the bell in

I got my corner on lockdown About to hold this whole block down Ludacris tell um how the South sound UUH BUDDAH-LAA AH, UH UH UH BUDDAH-LAA UHH BUDDAH-LAA AH uh oh uh oh uh oh Do that funky shit oh Do that funky shit uh Disturbin The Peace, Def Jam South

Tomorrow she'll be rollin' down I-10 Baton Rouge, LSU Eighteen years in her rear-view He's got a Friday paycheck lined up, down the block At daddy's shop It ain't much, but it's a job They've been dreadin' this moment all summer long The night before

Broward County, 954, we here, I kicked the door down 'Nolia boy shit, 1800 block, ugly corner, tied, gleeful I was hopin' that you'd ride for me the way I rode for you I wish my boy was here to see the man that I grew into And I know if I'm feelin' like

Baby you fix me I'd be crazy baby, lost forever Blowin' around in stormy weather Like a bunch of dead leaves I'd be a boarded up house on a dead end street Old Chevy on blocks, leakin' gasoline Oh it ain't hard to see Broke down is where I'd be

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again Oh, the ragman draws circles Up and down the block I’d ask him what the matter was But I know that he don’t talk And the ladies treat me kindly And they

Making pies To TableTalk I used to mind Now I don't care It's not far Down the block Close my eyes Make the pies all day