Lay It On Me

Artist: Kid Rock Album: Cocky Category: Pop
Lay it on me

C-cowboy baby, you know my credits
Don't ask if it's true, fuck it, I said it
Regret it, never, pimping, forever
Pull more hoes than a free cash lever
So you better never question the clever, clever
I'll sever whatever, go-getter and turn them redder than ever
You bet I'll wet her and leave and making her miss me
Because that's how we do it up in Detroit City
Seventy-one supercharged big block hemi
You're El DeBarge, I'm living more like Lemmy
B-B-B-B-B-Benny and the Jets is hot
But you haven't never met a motherfucker like Kid Rock
And Twisted Brown Trucker's like a loaded gun
We're the band that other bands run from
Doing 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've got to lay it on me
Uh, just lay it on me
You got to lay it on me

Now, people always say I am not living right
But it isn't my fault you misplaced your life
Replaced your wife with some two-bit Missy
And now she's getting fucked up in Detroit City
Tripping with the hippies, bikers, thugs
Hit me with a Mickey, fast women and drugs
One love for two minutes, the third minute I'm gone
Wake me up to eat around the crack of dawn
I'm making pancakes baby, if you crack the eggs
You'll feel the Irish tornado if you spread your legs
No need to brag, and don't trail behind me
Just step up front a little lady, and lay it on me

Lay it on me
Baby you've got to lay it on me
Uh, just lay it on me
You got to lay it on me

We're coming, we're coming, we're coming
Live from Detroit, it's Saturday night
Got the funky fresh rhymes, no need to bite
And to y'all hee-haws who thought I'd never rank
I'm going hahahaha all the way to the bank, bitch
I got rich off of keeping it real
While you Radiohead's are reinventing the wheel
Got critics all tripping off I don't know what
While I'm sipping King Louis not giving a fuck
Trash me in the news, give me wack reviews
But you'll never find another who can fill my shoes
Who can moan the blues, who can rock the rap
Who can rock, who can roll, who can flow like that
Black rim, and a pocket full of phone numbers
From Pan Anderson to Susan Summers
Understand I want peace like Gandhi
But until that day I'm a walk this way

So lay it on me, I'm talking all night long
Lay it on me, like a banger gong
Lay it on me, with AC/DC on
From Hell's Bells through the next nine songs
Lay it on, I can love you like that
Lay it on me, I'd rather fuck fo Foghat
Lay it on me, I can make you shake
Slow ride it baby through the piano break, come on

Lay it on me, you got to one, two, three, give it up
So step up front, a, little lady, lay it on me
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