Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Peach Pickin' Time Down in Georgia , by - Hank Snow. Song from the album Those Blue Eyes, in the genre КантриRelease date: 10.09.2012
Record label: Sinetone
Song language: English
Peach Pickin' Time Down in Georgia |
| As we’re holding hands |
| Kiss your neck and dance |
| We’re may beliefs |
| Together |
| We laugh and cry, and dance the night |
| In may beliefs |
| The taste of your lips |
| And the way your wear your hair |
| And the solar eclipse |
| As we stand and we glare |
| Lalala, dadada, la (coughs) |
| Scarf and a gold teeth, crooked the villain |
| As false mythical spirit to make her suck it |
| You see a lot of girls play to pretend |
| When the spilled ink leaks to the bottom of the pen |
| He with the microphone, should have been a gym coach |
| Swap bad grades for Chanel and designer coke |
| I used to kiss her, way before the blister |
| Fattest ass cheeks, and ran a train on her sister |
| Fickle like the nickle, shine beaming on her green stone |
| Laces with the hole, and a sticker made of fresh scones |
| My best friend, my very best coochie |
| Not a class clown, but appeared real groovy |
| And yeah, we had sex all over in the bathroom |
| Shades on, packing like a rascal out in Cancun |
| And can you blame him, growing up a lost soul? |
| So damn nervous, probably put it in the wrong hole |
| Damn, god damn, don’t say it |
| Whatever 'bout this twitch, he was a villain when naked |
| The type of chick that put the ring on your finger |
| Disfiguring the fleshbone, scrape her with a whisper |
| I keep dreaming, oh shit, the blunt’s lingering |
| Support your local drug dealer, four fidda split a can |
| Walking 'round town with the girl of my dreams, in my brain |
| Thoughts keep lingering, like I won’t ever fuck again |
| Shadows of emotion, while I’m singing in the ocean |
| Just leave me alone, alone… |
| He had a black face, innit |
| Her with the ass fat swoll out naked |
| Stationary shotgun, Snapchat her momma (Yo mom) |
| Telling 'em my girl’s got the keys to my Honda |
| What a shame, and it’s a borderline travesty |
| The chromosome lacking, with a spit from her cavity |
| Annoy the sanity, jewels from your majesty |
| Waking up sweaty, with the wet dream fantasy |
| I mean I hit it, confusion of the first degree |
| Swole to the lip bone, bleeding gums murphy |
| And I even sucked her toes on some other shit |
| But she got a tat of his ego on her left tit |
| You see a lot of girls play to pretend |
| When the spilled ink leaks to the bottom of the pen |
| But whatever, she tried to be clever |
| At least I still got the North Face sweater |