Lotsa Folks Die With Plenty O’ Liver Left

Liver and Onions with spuds and gravy

Finish Up Your EarthWorm Pie

Is it wasteful to under-use organs?

Me and red wine are betting it is.

Thank you, friend.

Barry out.

Set a spell and listen to this here little ditty about heaven:

Kevin Fowler – Beer, Bait and Ammo

Well now early one day
I was a-on my way
to my favorite fishin hole
I’s a thinking I could sure use
Another bottle of booze
My baits a-runnin a little low
yeah and a box of twelve gauge would be all the rage
when I’m all liquered up and I’m feeling good
Well just down the road there was a place called Bubba’s
Man he’s got the goods

And the sign said beer bait and ammo
yeah they got everything in between
yeah they got a-anything any old
beer drinking hell raising bonafide redneck needs
they got your fishing hooks
got your dirty books
got your rebel flag on the wall
sign said beer bait and ammo
yeah you ask me they got it all

well now when a-I walked in
I can’t a-even begin
to describe just what I smelt
Lord was it the catfish bait
or something bubba had ate
was it those pickeled eggs on the shelf

yeah with a toothless grin
he said boy step right on in
make yourself right at home
I said no no no thank you man
just a twelve pack of cans
and I’ll be good to go

chorus X3

Lyrics courtesy: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/kevin_fowler/beer_bait_and_ammo.html


K.R.I.T. – Country Shit

Yeah, I’ve been waiting to tell them about this country shit
I’m a learner, you ready, Luda

Let me tell you about these old school chevys, cadillacs ss impalas
if you smokin then we got more sacks than troy palamalu
your partners want some quarters, my partners want some keys
in atlanta we get that paper can you haters say cheese
10000 watt amps, 6 15 inch kickers
my trunk bumpin like an injected ass shots like a stripper
no insurance on these whips, tags all outdated
i might not be shit to you but my mamma thinks i made it
we gonna ball till we fall or this ganja gets us wasted
and i never drink that white
all my women think im racist
on that brown with a twist
tell these hoes to reminisce
that my name is ludacris and im like bitch

Let me tell you bout this super fly dirty dirty
third coast muddy water
shorty pop that pussy if you wanna
Let me tell you bout this old school pour and lean
candy yams and collard greens
pocket full of stone, ride clean
(Let me tell you bout this country shit
country country shit) x4
country country shit

I told them ah man hold up
country is what country does
in my crooked letter ho, well you know do it better for
pull up hop out clean
in my old school time machine
keep a parachute for this altitude
cause when you riding this high make it hard to breathe
mayday hollerin out payday
knocking pictures off the wall when i creep
pros get wet as fuck when i speak
southern drawl, thats just the way it be
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
heavy like sumo, numero uno
pourin up brown, she sippin on nuvo
pimpin so cold, never trick on a ho
outerspace with the flow, like im livin on pluto
you know bitch, im ugk influenced
sloooow iiiit dooownn chop chop and screw it
for the folk in texas that forever wreckin
with the styrofoam cups and purple fluid
return of 4eva I thought you knew it
country shit thats all i see
thats all i know, thats all i feel
thats all i am thats all i be


Candy painted lac …
sittin on 24s in vogue
pull up on a scene and i mack your bitch
it aint hard to tell i suppose she chose
cause send over the clothes, the wigs and shoes
this charlie sheen pimp is too big to lose
roll with trues and keep girls in two
boy you must have heard wrong, why you been confused
see im the big brother of sweet …
i know all about these street games
what the trick gone pay, the chick gone say
so she can’t lie about what she brang
im certified like usda
represent texas straight up out the pa
graduated school of hardknocks with a B.A.
right under the nose of the vice of the da
anything we say take it as law nigga
when im in the booth no rubber im raw nigga
talk down get bust in yo jaw nigga
like im your pa go run tell your ma nigga
no flaw, nigga 100 percent old school no glass … some under the tent
ask anybody here whos running this shit
…its big bun in this bitch

Lyrics courtesy:  http://www.sweetslyrics.com/867995.BigKRIT%20-%20Country%20Shit%20%28Remix%29%20ft.%20Ludacris%20and%20Bun%20B.html


2 Responses to “Lotsa Folks Die With Plenty O’ Liver Left”

  1. Not a bad way to start a day, quality blog post 🙂


    Barry Williams Reply:



Leave a Reply

CommentLuv badge

Subscribe without commenting