Johnny Cash Lyrics - Love Storey - Yelawolf

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 sthe 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 

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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 is have a good time 

Hold me under but I will not drown 

All I really know how to do is survive 

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Next time that I come to your town 

I be the fuckin' 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 songs and quotables 

Call me nasty, say I stink, well hit the sink and hold your nose 

Cause I'm about as convinceable as a bum in stolen clothes 'til 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 the 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 

Johnny Cash