Same In The End
Down in Mississippi where the sun beats down from the sky
They give it up and they give it up and they give it up
But they never ask why
Daddy was a rollin' rollin' stone, oh
He rolled away one day and he never came home
It ain't hard to understand
This ain't Hitler's master plan
What it takes to be a man
Ooh, in my mind, in my brain
I'm rollin' over like a steamin' freight train
It ain't hard to ascertain
You only see what you want to believe
When you light up in the back with those tricks up your sleeve
That don't mean I can't hang
The day that I die will be the day that
I shut my mouth and put down my guitar, uh
Sunday morning, hold church down at the bar
Get down on your knees and start to pray, oh
Pray my itchy rash will go away, yow
Now back up y'all, it ain't me
Kentucky Fried Chicken is all I see
It's a hella fine way to start your day
If I make you cry all night
Me and daddy gonna have a fist fight
It ain't personal, it ain't me
I only am what you told me to be
I'm a backwards-ass hillbilly, I'm Dick Butkus
You know I lie, I get mean
I'm a thief in the dark, I'm a ragin' machine
I'm a triple-rectified-ass son of a bitch
Rec-tite on my ass and it makes me itch
I can see for miles and miles and miles, oh
My broken heart makes me smile
In my mind, in my brain
I go back, I go completely insane
It ain't personal, it ain't me
If I make you cry all night
I'll be your daddy at the end of the night
Take a load from my big gun
You only see what you want to believe
When you creep from the back I've got tricks up my sleeve
24-7, devil's best friend
Makes no difference, it's all same in the end
They give it up and they give it up and they give it up
But they never ask why
Daddy was a rollin' rollin' stone, oh
He rolled away one day and he never came home
It ain't hard to understand
This ain't Hitler's master plan
What it takes to be a man
Ooh, in my mind, in my brain
I'm rollin' over like a steamin' freight train
It ain't hard to ascertain
You only see what you want to believe
When you light up in the back with those tricks up your sleeve
That don't mean I can't hang
The day that I die will be the day that
I shut my mouth and put down my guitar, uh
Sunday morning, hold church down at the bar
Get down on your knees and start to pray, oh
Pray my itchy rash will go away, yow
Now back up y'all, it ain't me
Kentucky Fried Chicken is all I see
It's a hella fine way to start your day
If I make you cry all night
Me and daddy gonna have a fist fight
It ain't personal, it ain't me
I only am what you told me to be
I'm a backwards-ass hillbilly, I'm Dick Butkus
You know I lie, I get mean
I'm a thief in the dark, I'm a ragin' machine
I'm a triple-rectified-ass son of a bitch
Rec-tite on my ass and it makes me itch
I can see for miles and miles and miles, oh
My broken heart makes me smile
In my mind, in my brain
I go back, I go completely insane
It ain't personal, it ain't me
If I make you cry all night
I'll be your daddy at the end of the night
Take a load from my big gun
You only see what you want to believe
When you creep from the back I've got tricks up my sleeve
24-7, devil's best friend
Makes no difference, it's all same in the end
Credits
Writer(s): Bradley James Nowell, Eric John Wilson, Floyd I. Gaugh Iv
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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