course She said, "Give her the car and the house and your taste Or else I set the trial date" So now when I think of you, Baton Rouge And the deep southern
Chorus: Here we are in New South Wales Shearing sheep as big as whales, with Leather necks and daggy tails And fleece as tough as rusty nails. When shearing
Diamond ring shining, bitches say it's so nice Sauce Motherfucking, now she's shaking all night Non stop, we get the place crackling From North, West, South
me drive Left off from LaGrange, passin through Squattenburg On the way to High Point and my speech startin to slur Better tell these sons of bitches,
's equal just don't measure it Well, Hanson did it to Hester And Mark David did it to John And maybe Jack did it to Marilyn But he did it to South Vietnam
not,now they think 50 made me baby i think not,whos responsable for Game career i think Doc,dre the day the only things that matter to me my sons my K
this place Take me awwaaayyyy Away, far away to better days [Verse 1] First thing I want to do is say what up to T.I. King of the south now everybody
average size cocks That slither through cell locks in the night Lactating tits being licked, left and right Plenty of coochie burning with desire Like black churches in the South
shooting him down and he's running away That was their turn I believe in The same thing that makes the night become day Tide and the water, sons and
certainly will With my South Philly motherfuckers kill at will Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill Chilly chill Chilly chill Chilly chill Aiyyo, the South
The tucker box is empty now The heart of Kelly's country cleared The gangers on the southern line Like the steam trains have disappeared Pelicans glide
's only that I'm here tonight thinkin' I was there There's high winds on the pier tonight, my soul departs from me Striding like Thalia's Ghost south
Cousin Bobby killed a man Packed his bags and left with Lisa-Jane Sister was an also-ran Ran and never showed her face again Those daughters, sons and
re having It's a cool cool dream It's a cool time, out in Arabia It's a cool time, when all the boys come home It's a cool cool time, out in South America
They took a southern working man and chained him to a car Claimed before the judge we didn't pull him very far Anyway, he looked at us with murder in
Come all you sons of freedom, and join our Southern band. We?ll find those carpetbaggers, and drive them from our land! ?Our Justice? is our motto! And
taught ourselves to rule this world But who's the one we're frightened of We are the sons of 1470 The geese fly chevrons cross the night sky Heading south
When I first heard this song, I was a little boy growing up Down in the state of South Carolina The song had been written and recorded by a man named