Opie Taylor Songtext
Well, mama sent me down to the mac, oh
BC bottles and a bag of tobacco
Said her boss was an asshole
She been on the line just breakin' her back though
I need a rope with a lasso
To catch a pot of gold and get past the hassle
To get my mama a castle
Pink Cadillac with the matching tassels
BC bottles and a bag of tobacco
Said her boss was an asshole
She been on the line just breakin' her back though
I need a rope with a lasso
To catch a pot of gold and get past the hassle
To get my mama a castle
Pink Cadillac with the matching tassels
Tick my daddy off with that backhoe
Send him down to Florida to fish on the fast boat
And a truck to match so he can roll around town pullin' his fast boat
Lord, I'm a dreamer, I can't pay her
She'll be on the line till daddy can come save her
Could've been rich, a star, a ballplayer
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
We hail a quarter pound of pot in a shoebox
Got five brands stuffed in a tube sock
And gave no fucking credit to you
I paid cash for my car, but do you slide?
Small town trappin' to Seeco Still keepin' it cool in the pistol
Me and dope's like green to a pickle
Yeah, like a haystack to a sicko
Never brought back home a report card
Spent more time in court though
But in it, stood up time, it's a short fall
Still servin' out, you're off the porch, dawg
I just blow the smoke in the air
Raised by pirates, cursed like a sailor
Could probably get a job if I cut my hair
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor...
Send him down to Florida to fish on the fast boat
And a truck to match so he can roll around town pullin' his fast boat
Lord, I'm a dreamer, I can't pay her
She'll be on the line till daddy can come save her
Could've been rich, a star, a ballplayer
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
We hail a quarter pound of pot in a shoebox
Got five brands stuffed in a tube sock
And gave no fucking credit to you
I paid cash for my car, but do you slide?
Small town trappin' to Seeco Still keepin' it cool in the pistol
Me and dope's like green to a pickle
Yeah, like a haystack to a sicko
Never brought back home a report card
Spent more time in court though
But in it, stood up time, it's a short fall
Still servin' out, you're off the porch, dawg
I just blow the smoke in the air
Raised by pirates, cursed like a sailor
Could probably get a job if I cut my hair
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor
Opie, Opie, Opie, Opie Taylor...
