(Nanci Griffith)
Gulf coast highway, he worked the rails
He worked the rice fields with their cold dark wells
He worked the oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico
The only thing we've owned is this old house here by the road
And when he dies he says he'll catch some blackbird's wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
She walked through springtime when I was home
The days were sweet, our nights were warm
The seasons changed, the jobs would come
The flowers fade, and this old house felt so alone
When the work took me away
And when she dies she says she'll catch some blackbird's wing
And she will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Highway 90, the jobs are gone
We kept our garden, we set the sun
This is the only place on Earth blue bonnets grow
And once a year they come and go
At this old house here by the road
And when we die we say we'll catch some blackbird's wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Yes when we die we say we'll catch some blackbird's wing
And we will fly away together
Come some sweet blue bonnet springHey yo dawg... I got some shit on my motha fuckin' chest... that
I need to get I need to get off cause, if I don't...
I'm gonna fuckin explode, or somethin'
Now look - this is a story about...
some little fuckin' girls that I know
It goes like this...
It's so easy for me to make enemies any more it's sickening
People are lookin' for an excuse to jump on my shitlist
Stickin their noses in shit that isn't none of their business
I never asked, cared, gave a fuck, or wanted opinions
Now I'm in the position that, I don't wanna be in shit
I never had no beef with your corny son of a bitches
But now the shit is broke and you can't do nothin to fix it
So I'm tellin you right now - motherFUCK a Limp Bizkit
Now I'm gonna be real, B-Real was real
He ain't say shit the whole time me and Whitey was beefin';
see he chilled
He was cool with the whole situation and kept it neutral
I'd have never involved my crew if it wasn't for Pupils
Peoples, whatever your backpackin cypherin name is
Had I not opened a magazine and seen what you sayin and
I'da never involved you, but you had to add your two pennies
Now I gotta go grab my shitlist and add some new enemies
Hit the studio and I'll admit, I had a few in me
Fuck it, I roasted you, I ain't mad at you any
But let it be known that song was never released, it leaked
I'da never gave you that much attention intentionally
Then I look on the TV, now look who's mentionin me
That little fuckin weasel, DJ Lethal, on MTV
After I gave you props in that song, you on national TV
Talkin bout Everlast is gonna whip my ass when he sees me?
Come on dawg, you was supposed to be on that song
Talkin bout how bad you hate him, now you all on his thong?
What's wrong? You scared, and Fred, you said you was dissin him too
I shoulda knew better than to listen to you
You fuckin sissy, up on stage, screamin how people hate you
They don't hate you
T