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Sippin on down |
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Sippin around |
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Tippin up a anotha cupa |
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Sippin' on down |
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Sippin on down |
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Sippin around |
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Tippin up anotha cupa |
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And sip it on down12-gauge double barrel |
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Loaded full of buckshot |
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Brewin up that mountain dew |
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It boilin like a crockpot |
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Deep out in these southern woods and |
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Far away from everything |
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Out amongst the tombstones |
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Cookin up that hurricane |
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Take a sip for testin then' |
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Pour a little on the ground |
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Soak up in that georgia clay |
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An now i'm waitin for the sound150 year buried deep in the earths grip |
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Soon there gonna dancin |
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When that cool water hits there lips |
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Made from the meal |
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Outta field cursed by whoodoo |
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Water from a well |
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Straight outta hell |
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Cursed by voodoo |
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Stir it up cook it to the point that it evaporates173 degrees boilin up |
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The dead awake |
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Sippin on down |
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Sippin around |
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Tippin up another cupa |
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And sip it on down |
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Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
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And sip it on down100 gallons of that rock gut top stock |
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Ready for the shippin |
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In a heavy chevy small block |
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Foot to the floor |
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Ridin mean like an out law |
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Duckin dogein road blocks |
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Like boxing with an south paw |
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These dark and dusty roads |
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Lit up by the full moon |
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Comin round the corner |
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Muffler soundin like a monson |
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I got the devils meanest demons |
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Ridin shotgun |
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Straped with a winchester |
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Case they have to pop one |
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We headin for the next county |
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On the southin trail |
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G man and revenue hot on me southern tail |
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Hang out the window |
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One blast with the buckshot |
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Need get em my ass so that i don't get got |
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White lightning, sugar whiskey, stump pole, skull cracker, alley bourbon, city gin, wildcat, block |
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And tackle |
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Its how we do it |
|
How we get it to the next level |
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Have us huntin bitches down |
|
With pick axe and shovel |
|
Gone of that good shit |
|
Hit ya like a mule kick |
|
Pick a hater out the crowd |
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And hit em with a pool stick |
|
Hallucinations seein shit |
|
Got ya climbin trees |
|
Passed out in a ditch |
|
Like a bitch down on ya knees |
|
Don't even give a **** |
|
When the spirts hit ya brain |
|
Four shots is all ya need |
|
Certified gone insane |
|
Lets get it crackalackin |
|
One more 'gain for the pimpin |
|
Take the jug |
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And turn it up chug it down |
|
And start ta sippin |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
|
Sippin on down |
|
Sippin around |
|
Tippin up another cupa |
|
And sip it on down |
