're needin' bread and meat Where we gonna get it, Dad? We'll get it from the man In the house on the hill Yes we will from the man on the hill Ploughin
mill She sits down on a bearskin and she says you'll be my man I'll have me the best bearhunter in the hills A wild child was Tiger Whitehead and they
'em from Zion Hill Bring 'em in a bus to Georgetown know somebody could kill Sunny Child the overseer I swear he's an ignorant man Walkin' the the canefields
you corny niggaz askin' who is Johnny Blaze Get a late pass stinkin' ass sucker ass Now you sufferin' like succotash While Johnny Cash, makin' moves on
be gone yah.. That gear that you rock gonna be gone that house up on the hill gonna be gone the gold purse on your grill gonna be gone the ice on
than blood I'm older than time molded from the divine How can you be so bold to think that you'll take mine? I'm cash like Johnny it's the highway man
like to dedicate this record Right here to my main man Johnny Cash, a real American Gangster I got my nephew Whitey Ford on the guitar Young Trev' on
train to Pionridge Mississippi see that levee there It's built to hold back the waters of Ol' Man River when he gets on a rampage And he gets on a
without your sweet love too Go on and go if you need her like I need you [ piano - guitar ] Go on and go if you want her... 7. CRY CRY CRY (Johnny Cash) « © '56 Hill
the country; and he's a country boy still. He looks down at the city lights; from his Hollywood hills. He's a Hollywood hillbilly, stearing along bearing willie, johnny cash
come a call in you niggas be stallin' I got the unblievable like my nigga Smalls in Realease date man I can't wait The ass gettin' cash like a New York
of the country; and he's a country boy still. He looks down at the city lights; from his Hollywood hills. He's a Hollywood hillbilly, stearing along bearing willie, johnny cash
than blood I'm older than time, molded from the divine How could you be so bold to think that you'll take mine? I'm cash like Johnny, it's the highway man
askin who is .. Johnny Blaze? Get a late pass stankin-ass (ha) sucker ass Now you sufferin like succotash (wha-what-what) while Johnny Cash makin moves on
to dedicate this record right here to my main man Johnny Cash, a real American gangster I got my nephew Whitey Ford on the guitar Young Trev' on the drums
woman scream out that her lover's turning off, turning on the television. And I can't tell the difference between ABC news, Hill Street Blues and a preacher on
