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