| I guess it has been a minute
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| And the south paw aint felt right without the pen in it Sent for incentive and sittin' submissive
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| But nothin' bringin' Jimmy back, you know that — prayin' a waste of wishes
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| I made a decision — carry on, honor lives in the deed
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| Though the muse moves in decreased speed
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| Due to the wait, my dude lose patience with me?
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| Favor the Blue, you knew what I was trainin' to be
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| I came for the takin' of something they aint seen back in Henry
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| The proximity to Knox’s Fort’s not given any but
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| Cause to envy — Lord when have we fought the enemy
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| With more that afforded, we’re stormin' the port of entry
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| In memory of the James Clan, my symphony of the
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| Flames fan to conquer, when the song come on — pay the band
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| Send a percentage back, Oldham owed, factor in estate tax
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| Or waive it if it goes to pave Tobacco Road
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| Some memories I kept
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| Others left, others I must have let go to protect
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| Hold a check for the row I set — ready? |
| No, not yet
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| Well lemme know and I’ll return to collect
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| They never found me ‘cause Valerie’s boy had a different rhythm to play to And he gon' use his tools to break through
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| Mindful of the nights in that state, who they say life is what you make it When really life is what makes you
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| Payin' homage, with a big nod to Aubrey
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| The schools failed me, thank God the farm taught me The value of a calloused hand, how to work and plow this land
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| How even a modest crop will make your pop the proudest man
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| Harvest of a thousand fans, sans a gram of seeds broadcast
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| Through loud speakers, in the weeds I was born last
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| Profound effect on my volume, plus the readiness to fill it In the field you should hear what they call ‘em
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| Regardless I should have spent another year on the bottom tier
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| Instead of trynna dodge what it was I thought got ‘em here
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| 89 the number, 84 lumber — another summer
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| Fightin' for cash to mash on the likening
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| Of cycles I’ve seen — those not keen on college
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| Lost direction or went to be correctional officers
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| No opportunity was offered us, I had my sights on Being gone ‘fore they cut the lights on, Ryan’s song
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| Right or wrong, tie it tighter, I’m tired of buying into
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| Guidance gone awry, my father fought it with firearms and
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| Died in the trauma the violence spawned a child of drama
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| No wonder he’s prone to wander, knowin' his home is haunted
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| Prayin' that over yonder they still know
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| How much I love ‘em I just had to go, had it with the status quo
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| They’re askin' me if I’ll be back when I’m old
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| In fact, no — these are my last tracks along Tobacco Road |