Yeah, you wanna know me better. What'd you think I was in it for. I ain't the kind of guy just wanna walk you to your door. . I squeeze some Georgia peaches.
I could blame Jesus, I could blame momma. I could blame Brahma for all the bull that's in my head. I could blame Seagram's for all the whiskey. And for the tipsy that's still here on my breath.
I'm rotten to the core. What you hangin' with me for. You're worth the wait, like the desert rain. I light up when you say my name. It's time to change the road I'm on.