I pull my blue jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on When I wake up in the mornin' light I pull on my jeans and I feel all right You and me, we'll go motorbike ridin' in the sun And the wind and the rain I got money in my pocket, I got a tiger in my tank

Girl you make my speakers go boom boom You're lookin' so good in what's left of those blue jeans The best buzz I'm ever gonna find And high on summertime That kinda thing makes a man go mm mm Drip of honey on the money make it gotta be Hey I'm a little

I shine right 'cause I grind, bitch hated on mine My heart's in it, I'm authentic, it's clear to see it's my time (These bitches don't want none) I got twenty racks on my new jeans I got ten more in my blue jeans I walk in then I turn up Pimp tight liked

They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one There is a house in New Orleans My mother was a tailor Sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs

They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one There is a house in New Orleans My mother was a tailor Sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs

Sophisticated lady put your blue jeans on You're anybody's baby when your mama's gone Pretty lady, get back Pretty lady, yea, sweet thing Sophisticated lady tryin' to change my ways Just because you're caught in your social maze I think it's 'bout time

You ring me often nightly At precisely nine tight Nigga never off But you were one time like 10 o'clock But that's life B And you are my wifey You look right with your hair to the side Blue jeans, nice shoes and a yellow top Likes tunes from bashment to

Be Bop A Lula she's my baby Be Bop A Lula I don't mean maybe Be Bop A Lula I don't mean maybe Well Be Bop A Lula she's my baby Be Bop A Lula she's my baby doll, my baby doll, my baby doll. Well, she's the gal in the red blue jeans She's the queen of all

I like doin' what she likes Doin' what she likes She likes hearin' how good she looks in them blue jeans Little kisses, sweeter than sweet tea Things I whispered in her ear, oh my Like running my fingers through her long hair Lightin' watermelon candles

They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy In the house of the rising sun There is a house in Sin City And God, I know I'm one My mother was a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in Sin City