Drink by drink, I think, I'm thinkin'
Why not train with me this week-end?
And I can't walk and I can't dance
Give me a smile and then take off your pants
Saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror
Girls in the back, trunks full of beer
Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize
I'm not that open, I'm gettin' really wise
Aaaaaah
Coke and rum, can I taste your tongue?
Won't stop sipping till we're both numb
Lose that dirt and the short black skirt
Why the lip gloss and the tight white shirt?
Hand down my pants, hands on my grass
Got to the bottom of the bottom, but I still can't dance
Like this brother with the hand full of ass
Bad ass shades and a bag full of grass
Aaaaaah
The Orwells - Southern Comfort Lyrics
The Orwells - Southern Comfort Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Drink by drink, I think, I'm thinkin'
Why not train with me this week-end?
And I can't walk and I can't dance
Give me a smile and then take off your pants
Saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror
Girls in the back, trunks full of beer
Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize
I'm not that open, I'm gettin' really wise
Aaaaaah
Coke and rum, can I taste your tongue?
Won't stop sipping till we're both numb
Lose that dirt and the short black skirt
Why the lip gloss and the tight white shirt?
Hand down my pants, hands on my grass
Got to the bottom of the bottom, but I still can't dance
Like this brother with the hand full of ass
Bad ass shades and a bag full of grass
Aaaaaah
Why not train with me this week-end?
And I can't walk and I can't dance
Give me a smile and then take off your pants
Saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror
Girls in the back, trunks full of beer
Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize
I'm not that open, I'm gettin' really wise
Aaaaaah
Coke and rum, can I taste your tongue?
Won't stop sipping till we're both numb
Lose that dirt and the short black skirt
Why the lip gloss and the tight white shirt?
Hand down my pants, hands on my grass
Got to the bottom of the bottom, but I still can't dance
Like this brother with the hand full of ass
Bad ass shades and a bag full of grass
Aaaaaah
Writer: DOMINIC CORSO, GRANT BRINNER, HENRY BRINNER, MARIO CUOMO, MATTHEW O'KEEFE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management