Brothers and sisters We are here for one reason and one reason alone To share our love of music I present to you, country music without prejudice, hey
a start Yea, and I don't have to go to Hollywood 'Cause Hollywood come through my neighborhood with cameras on I really think they're stealin from us
outside Neighbor's always smiling with a baby on her knee Rhea sat on the front step getting her hair combed out and greased And music, the bass booming, pours from
on my brain no complain and so will my community And I prefer compliments So I complement at an angle, of ninety degrees It's the ninties, and music got known for grease
the Count of Monte Crisco And MC's start to vanish I rolled up on a jet black kid the nigga started speakin spanish Yo! You wasn't from Panana!! I asked
whole conceptor Check it, 1, 2 Rappers Get on the mic, talk about cars and clothes sounding like hoes Ain't been exposed to the foes of most disciples I'm from
m a big lip you A'yo your man'll can get slid with you You and the squad takin' to galoshes I hold the engineer for hostage and spit from a dirty cartridge
moonwalk and spinnin I remember the hippies smokin grass and fuckin Disco dancin floor light i'm cuttin I remember beatlemania seepin the planet All that screamin from
't love me, mane fuck you Comin' like a train, boy, it's not a game What's my name name name? Big Stak Mac Where I'm from from from? The terrible T What
they act like they livin lavish Two-thousand extreme with space chandeliers (space chandeliers) I mean rugs I mean just everything all over the carpet (yeah) With updated nineteen seventy-five music
good vibes, good times, good living T-Pain music, blacky mouse good liquor Thinking how I should lick her, or maybe not Cause soon as I wanna tell her, bet the music
She work at Mickey D's from 9 to 5, Walmart 6 to 10 Saving up enough for school, her little girl is doing well Daddy is a walking bum, smoking weed, drinking
world in her dress She put my fingers to the test She made me grease, my hair She got me wearing leather oh we danced till the music faded We loved,
I just wanna put you down I just want y'all to get down Everybody come on And get down to the chicken grease Chicken grease Chicken grease Chicken grease
one that's dead on it Uh, dead on it, shall we go back? Yeah, let's go Negroes from Brooklyn play the bass pretty good But the ones from Minneapolis
records break Two and a half million scanned by the second week Motherfucker I hit 'em up! I'm from Detroit's Pemberton Ave., where bullets tear you in half Fuck the music
(Will Birch/Dr Feelgood) (Music also by Jimmy Reed - Omar & The Howlers: Down in Mississippi) I'm going down by the jetty Tonight the tide is high It
Traditonal arrangement by Auldridge, Gaudreau, Coleman and Klein © 1993 AGCK Music/ Mountainside Music (BMI) Well I woke up early with those morning
