cowboy, a big time player I like Pantera, Kid Rock and Slayer I like Ice-T, the rapper I mean When it comes to drinkin' I like Jim Beam I play Washburn guitars
YOU LAY THAT SHIT ON SLIM I'VE BEEN A RODIE FOR SATAN HONEY I WAS A SOUND MAN FOR THE DEVIL YOU SEE NOW IM A GUITAR WITH THE HEART OF A BANJO
got a ballpark figure He's got a ballpoint pen They travel around for weeks at a time Writin' down descriptions of the places they been She plays guitar
frequency? Can you connect with me? If it's alright, your satellite can be my energy Don't wanna be too bizarre but you're the key to my car You're my electric guitar
my boots on, got my hat on Got my old guitar and a new song For a week I'll be where I belong With the big stars, Golden Guitars Dream will be ours some
like to boast Fuck off Yeah, right in your motherfuckin' ass bitch With that Detroit city shit ain't shit switched we're on the same script Nothing new since '76, Kid Rock Yo Slim
, fled to his neck of the woods Got in touch with his roots, found the redneck in his blood And said, "Heck, country western rap records are good" So he picks the guitar
a lawsuit For example, I know I'm nice, I don't front it Least anticipated, to the most wanted Yeah, that's me in the spotlight With a mic and a guitar
thickened air, where my spirit is free I'm blasting off with a strum of my six string Six String Rocketeer Well, my getaway car is this beat up guitar
-shirts and Dickies It's the return of Billy Ocean, Cuervo is my drink Stank, stank means you got the funkiest, dopest heat on the street Three G ski, Slim
maybe, maybe I'll come back to you Now I'm not saying there's no chance at all But it don't take no crystal ball To see the chance is mighty slim Chris
Blurry vision Mista Mondehan David Banner Flip the data the kids are wearin' bandannas Totin' hammers aimin' at your medulla oblongata Blow, blow a young thug wit a slim
now Oh the soul brothers, Jitterbugs Hip cats and fancy hats and Pretty girls with pretty smiles All decked out in the latest styles and Farmer Jim and Guitar Slim
his neck of the woods Got in touch with his roots, found a redneck in his blood And said, "Heck, country western rap records are good!" So he picks a guitar
Well, there's slim times when my words won't rhyme And the hills I face are a long hard climb I just sit cross-legged with my old guitar It kind of makes
The lyrics in the one by G love and Special Sauce look suspiciously, are are phrased WAY too much like Guitar Slim (Eddie Jones) in his 1964 recording
mountains you will scale with ease Yet molehills where you Stumble Sins you so regret and yet other sins that you enjoy Harps can beg forgiveness and the guitars
But the dangers are real and the chances are slim And there ain't nothing cheap but the thrill in the badlands of Beverly Hills [ guitar ] He had a mustache