Johnny Cash

The windows cracked on the Chevrolet

My cigarettes in the ash tray

The engines off and the radio's down

So nervous my whole body shakes

The parking lot's full of people and

They ready to see the preacher man

Time to open up for the main act

I guess that makes me a deacon

I promise that I won't let me down

And check myself in the mirror one time

Say my prayer and then I shook the ground

Light another smoke and step outside

Walk inside and take a look around

As I try to remember all of my lines

Guess it's time for me to face the crowd

And give the people my time

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

These people standing on front row

Tryna see through me like a window

I'm wearing my soul on my sleeve

But they look at me through a pin hole

All I see is this opportunity

To see at least one of you in me

But I can't seem to win 'em over so I swallow the humility

Fifteen minutes to hold 'em down

And I'm just wishing that it would fly by

It's like my whole world hits the ground

All I wanted to do was have a good time

Hold me under but I will not drown

All I really know how to do is survive

Next time that I come to your town

I be the fucking headline

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

I'm not supposed to be this person, I suppose

I'm not supposed to be this rapper poking holes at stereotypes

Or to write this juxtaposing flow to beats it chose

I hope the microphone and out me goes this song and quotables

Call me nasty, say I stink

Well hit the sink and hold your nose

'Cause I'm about as convincible as a bum in stolen clothes

Till they go at those

I got dreams like fish got gills

I can't survive in this lake water without a deal

But I can build Noah's Ark without a power drill

Look at this crowd like it's a battlefield

Tell 'em my travels, my triumphs, my failures, my family loud and clear

Let 'em off, judge, I don't care how they feel

Fuck it what do I care?

I'm my personal shrink

Throw my heart down on the ground, stomp it, use the blood for ink

I'm used to purple and pink bruises

So thanks for the tools

That's just a brick from the mansion

Another stitch in the pants of a

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash