Your Southern Can Is Mine 歌词
| 歌曲 | Your Southern Can Is Mine |
| 歌手 | The White Stripes |
| 专辑 | De Stijl |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : McTell | |
| Lyrics：Blind Willie Mctell Music：Blind Willie Mctell | |
| Lookie here momma let me explain ya this | |
| If ya wanna get crooked I'll even give ya my fist | |
| Ya might read from revelation back to genesis | |
| Ya keep forgettin your southern can belongs to me | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine in the mornin' | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might go uptown have me arrested, put in jail | |
| Some hotshots got money gonna pull my bail | |
| Soon as I get out, hit the ground | |
| Your southern can is worth a thousand, half a pound | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, talkin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might take it from the south, baby, hide it up north | |
| Understand ya can't rule me and be my boss | |
| Take it from the east and hide in the west | |
| But when I get ya momma your can't see no rest | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I'm screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now baby, ashes to ashes, sand to sand | |
| When I hit ya momma then ya feel my hand | |
| Give ya punch through that barbed wire fence | |
| When I hit ya baby, ya know I make no sense | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now look here woman, don't get hot | |
| I'm gettin me a brick outta my backyard | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I'm takin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Well if I catch you momma down in the heart of town | |
| I'm gonna grab me a brick and tear your can on down | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| You maybe get bed sick, 'cause you're graveyard bound | |
| I'm gonna make you moan like a graveyard hound | |
| So there ain't no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I'm screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me |
| zuo ci : McTell | |
| Lyrics: Blind Willie Mctell Music: Blind Willie Mctell | |
| Lookie here momma let me explain ya this | |
| If ya wanna get crooked I' ll even give ya my fist | |
| Ya might read from revelation back to genesis | |
| Ya keep forgettin your southern can belongs to me | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine in the mornin' | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might go uptown have me arrested, put in jail | |
| Some hotshots got money gonna pull my bail | |
| Soon as I get out, hit the ground | |
| Your southern can is worth a thousand, half a pound | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, talkin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might take it from the south, baby, hide it up north | |
| Understand ya can' t rule me and be my boss | |
| Take it from the east and hide in the west | |
| But when I get ya momma your can' t see no rest | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now baby, ashes to ashes, sand to sand | |
| When I hit ya momma then ya feel my hand | |
| Give ya punch through that barbed wire fence | |
| When I hit ya baby, ya know I make no sense | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now look here woman, don' t get hot | |
| I' m gettin me a brick outta my backyard | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m takin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Well if I catch you momma down in the heart of town | |
| I' m gonna grab me a brick and tear your can on down | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| You maybe get bed sick, ' cause you' re graveyard bound | |
| I' m gonna make you moan like a graveyard hound | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me |
| zuò cí : McTell | |
| Lyrics: Blind Willie Mctell Music: Blind Willie Mctell | |
| Lookie here momma let me explain ya this | |
| If ya wanna get crooked I' ll even give ya my fist | |
| Ya might read from revelation back to genesis | |
| Ya keep forgettin your southern can belongs to me | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine in the mornin' | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might go uptown have me arrested, put in jail | |
| Some hotshots got money gonna pull my bail | |
| Soon as I get out, hit the ground | |
| Your southern can is worth a thousand, half a pound | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, talkin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Ya might take it from the south, baby, hide it up north | |
| Understand ya can' t rule me and be my boss | |
| Take it from the east and hide in the west | |
| But when I get ya momma your can' t see no rest | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now baby, ashes to ashes, sand to sand | |
| When I hit ya momma then ya feel my hand | |
| Give ya punch through that barbed wire fence | |
| When I hit ya baby, ya know I make no sense | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Now look here woman, don' t get hot | |
| I' m gettin me a brick outta my backyard | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m takin about it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| Well if I catch you momma down in the heart of town | |
| I' m gonna grab me a brick and tear your can on down | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I know it | |
| Your southern can belongs to me | |
| You maybe get bed sick, ' cause you' re graveyard bound | |
| I' m gonna make you moan like a graveyard hound | |
| So there ain' t no use in bringin no jive to me | |
| Your southern can is mine, I' m screamin | |
| Your southern can belongs to me |
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