Thursday, June 10, 2010

Just in Case Someone Asks, "What is Country Music anyways?"

Kid Rock   More CMT Music   More CMT Music Videos


Cowboy...cowboy...
Well I'm packing up my game and I'm a head out west
Where real women come equipped with scripts and fake breasts
Find a nest in the hills, chill like Flynt
Buy an old droptop, find a spot for pimpin'
I'm a Kid Rock it up and down your block
With a bottle of scotch and watch lots of crotch
Buy a yacht with a flag sayin' chillin' the most
Then rock that bitch up and down the coast
Give a toast to the sun, drink with the stars
Get thrown in the mix and tossed out of bars
Zip to Tijuana, I wanna roam
Find motown and tell them fools come back home
Start an escort service, for all the right reasons
And set up shop at the top of Four Seasons
Kid Rock and I'm the real McCoy

And I'm headin' out west sucker...because I wanna be a
Cowboy, baby
With the top let back and the sunshine shining
Cowboy baby
West coast chillin' with the Boone's Wine
I wanna be a cowboy baby
Ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day
Cowboy baby
I can smell a pig from a mile away

I bet you'll hear my whistle blowin' when my train rolls in
It goes (whistle) like dust in the wind
Stoned pimp, stoned freak, stoned out of my mind
I once was lost, but now I'm just blind
Palm trees and weeds, scabbed knees and rights
Get a map to the stars, find Heidi Fleiss
And if the price is right then I'm gonna make my bid, boy

And let Cali-for-ny-aye know why they call me
Cowboy baby
With the top let back and the sunshine shining
Cowboy baby
West coast chillin' with the Boone's Wine
I wanna be a Cowboy baby
Ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day
Cowboy baby
I can smell a pig from a mile away

Yeah...Kid Rock...you can call me Tex
Rollin' Sunset Blvd with a bottle of Becks
Seen a slimmy in a 'vette, rolled down my glass
And said, "Yeah, this dick fit right in your ass"
No kiddin', gun slingin', spurs hittin' the floor
Call me Hoss, I'm the Boss, with the sauce n' the whores
No remorse for the sheriff, in his eyes I ain't right
I'm a paint his town red, then paint his wife white HUH
Cause chaos, rock like Amadeus
Find West Coast pussy for my Detroit players
Mack like mayors, ball like Lakers
They told us to leave, but bet they can't make us
Why they wanna pick on me...lock me up and snort away my key
I ain't no G, I'm just a regular failure
I ain't straight outta Compton I'm straight outta the trailer
Cuss like a sailor...drink like a Mick
My only words of wisdom are just, "Suck My Dick."
I'm flickin' my Bic up and down that coast and
Keep on truckin' until it fall in the ocean

Cowboy
With the top let back and the sunshine shining
Cowboy
Spend all my time at Hollywood and Vine
Cowboy
Ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day
Cowboy
I can smell a pig from a mile away
Cowboy
With the top let back and the sunshine shining
Cowboy
With the top let back and the sunshine shining
Cowboy
Hollywood and Vine

Comments:
Wow!

Kelly Pickler....nice.
 
I didn't know they could make Country Music any worse than it is today, but somehow, Nashville always finds a way.

That was, um, large.
 
And belongs...

In the Garbahge
 
Kin snobs. Did anyone see any more of the vids? There's some good stuff in there. Remember this is coming from somebody who likes to go to see full growed men and womens play "Mustang Sally" every Friday night at the local brewery. So. Check out Miranda doing her best Barbara Jean.
 
Don't git me rong Hoss,

I listen to a lotta trash.

I have Carpenters CD's next to Social Distortion before Red Hot Chili Peppers along side Pat Boone right behind Sting.

I didn't say it wasn't entertaining.

And Kelly Pickler still gits my vote.


I just like saying Pickler!
 
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