Lay it on me King Cowboy baby, you know my credits Don't ask if it's true, fuck it I said it Regret it? (Never) Pimpin'? (Forever) Pull more hoe's than the free cash levers So you better never, question the cleaver, cleaver I sever whatever, forget her, and turn 'em redder than ever You better wet her, and leave her makin' her miss me Cause that's how we do it up in Detroit city 71 super charged big block hemmy Ya eldavarge, I'm livin' more like Lemmy B-B-B-B-B Benny and the jet's is hot But you aint never met a motherfucker like Kid Rock And Twisted Brown Truckers like a loaded gun We're the band that other bands run from Doin' the backstage boogie is where you'll find me If you want some of that flash a pass, come back and Lay it on me Lay it on me Baby you got Lay it on me Uhh..just lay it on me Lay it on me Lay it on me Now, people always say I aint livin' right But it aint my fault you misplaced your light Replaced your wife with some 2 bit missy Now she's gettin' fucked up in Detroit city Kickin' with the hippies, bikers, thugs Hit me with a micky, fast women and drugs 1 love, for 2 minutes a 3rd minute I'm gone Wake me up to eat around the crack of dawn I'm makin' pancakes baby if ya crack the eggs You'll feel the hours torn later when you spread your legs No need to bag, and don't trail behind me Just step up front a little lady and Lay it on me Lay it on me Baby you got Lay it on me Uhh uhh uhh uhh..just lay it on me Lay it on me Lay it on me Hey, hey, hey (talkbox)Here we go, lets, lets jam. We're comin', we're comin', we're comin' Live from Detroit it's Saturday night Got the funky fresh rhyme no beat to bite And to ya'll hee haws who thought I'd never rank I'm goin' hahahahaha all the way to the bank bitch I got rich off a keepin' it real While you radioheads are reinventin' the wheel Got critics all trippin' off I don't know what While I'm sippin' king louie not givin' a fuck Trash me in the news, give me wack reviews But you'll never find another who can fill my shoes Who can roll the blues, who can rock the rap Who can rock, who can roll, who can flow like that Uhh black rim and a pocket full of phone numbers From Pam Anderson to Suzanne Summers Understand I want peace like Gandi But until that day I'ma walk this way so
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