Antebellum - Airbud

I got no dollars to my name

But I got you, baby

I got no shot at fame

They got the tools baby

Look back at a half-walked life, like

I got shoes, baby

I gave her two «maybe"s

Now she got two babies

But that’s just how life goes

So I stay on the move, baby

Con leche con fruit, baby

One girl I got two ladies

It ain’t a big deal

She was thick as hell

But I had church on the mind, yeah, wedding bells

Bell-bottom jeans, big hair

Straight 70s groove, baby

Just a little bit too crazy

Tangled up in my roots, baby

I was whippin', shiftin', and driftin' the Benz

Allen Jackson on the radio rememberin' when

Driver’s license violence if ain’t back before 10

My parents locked me up instead so no trips to the pen

But I took trips to the pen

The acid tabs, ballpoint in my hand

The sweat-dirt-stained off-white Vans

I’m reading Daniel in the Bible like «Damn»

Take my kingdom, take my freedom shh, not again

I’m crying out

Oh oh ooowhoa oh oh oh oh

Oh no no stop crying on me

Crying out, crying out

Crying out, crying out

Crying out now

My Civil War sweetheart

I love when we battle

We shoot until we’re dead or 'til we run out of ammo

We could pack up, go West in an old Winnebago

We could ride off in a sunset, sit high in a saddle

Yeah, I want our offspring to number the sand

I want all of you, not just all I can stand

Until my last tweet on Twitter, post on Instagram

We’ll be like Denise and Rod, straight kiss and hold hands

She’s so smooth, baby

Hang ten, hanging loose, baby

Hang light in that noose, baby

Come through and don’t shoot, save me

I’m crying out

I’m crying out like

I’m crying out like

I said I’m crying out

Oh I’m crying out like

Oh oh oowhoa oh

Oh whoa whoa

Oh oh oowhoa oh

Oh whoa whoa