| 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 |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Peach Pickin' Time In Georgia, artist - Hank Snow. Album song The Very Best Of, in the genre Кантри