Lyrics 27 - New West

27

If I die at twenty-seven
Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix
I’ll be smiling far from heaven
Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven
Hol' up, take in this trip for a sec
God made me wicked but I need some rest
Holes in my pockets, the gold on my neck
It’s getting too heavy I can’t catch a breath
The lord came and bought me a Mercedes-Benz
Drove to the crossroads to drink with my friends
Shit is Nirvana more doors to the thrills
I’m high but I’m falling asleep at the wheel
Glass of red wine, house in the hills
Riding with death like the king: Jean Michel
Shit that I’m on makes it harder to sleep
But I’ll rest in peace when I’m down six feet deep
If I die at twenty-seven
Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix
I’ll be smiling far from heaven
Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven
If I die at twenty-seven
Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix
I’ll be smiling far from heaven
Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven