Lyrics:
Carter Guitar

justified and we're ancient I hope you understand we don't want to upset the apple cart and we don't want to cause any harm all the way down the east

And another ex-wife I got a rock n roll house I got a rock n roll car I play the shit out the drums And I can play the guitar I got a kid in New York

at all I'm slick as an old mac, I'm sick as a Prozac And the Carter 1 was the dick for you hoes trapped And this is tha Carter 2 and this is the bozack

judge juss a bitch, The jury suck dick, Im a eastside blood, And i dont smoke that crip, I smoke that kush, First name Bubba, First name Young, Last name Stunna, Carter

lumieres Ferme la porte y'a un courant d'air Dis-moi des mots durs Dis-moi des mots tendres Dis-moi tout c'que tu veut entendre Amene-les tes cartes

I got what it takes She said "I'll turn you on sonny to something strong, play the song with the funky break" And go-cart Mozart was checkin' out the

a bitch, The jury suck dick, Im a eastside blood, And i dont smoke that crip, I smoke that kutch, First name Bubba, First names Young, Last name Stunna, Carter

I was sittin' in my hotel room, strummin' my old guitar Not much to do when you're far away, playin' some smokey bar I was feelin' a little empty and

(written by: S. Johnson/D. Carter/B. Johnson) Yes sir Here I come I'm comin' for a taste of your love Here I come, baby 'Cause I like what you do for