Buried As An Outlaw

(albüm: Gold Rush - 2018)

White lines, into the sun
They will ride, until it's done

This is for the clubs all across the globe
And every single outlaw that's been to my shows
All the rebels riding quick, dipping down the road
Bumping Texas hippy with some chicks up on a pole
Shout out to Happy, Mick, Bobby, and Tim
At every club house I step my fucking foot in
Rest in peace Tipsy Jones, man he was my friend
Drink a fifth of whiskey every time I see him
This is real life shit ain't not curse son or strip
I got love for every club I ever got drunk with

So grab the clear out the copper, the jar out the locker
Nothing but respect for your patch and your rocker

Pour whiskey on his casket when they lowered him down
Two fingers flying high, when they put him in the ground
He was buried as an outlaw
Yeah he was buried as an outlaw

Do a hundred through the desert rasing hell to this
Real hell raiser's ain't no Jack Teller's bitch
Lighting up the pine, sipping on the devils spit
Finger flying high got no reason but the hell of it
Highway man popping wheelies on a Dyna
Splitting down the lanes with the law right behind ya
Dive bar drinking doing burnouts on the pavement
Thinking you can hang, nope buddy you're mistaken
Had to get the green light to make this song
You can drink 'em all night when you crank this song

Grab the clear out the copper, the jar out the locker
Nothing but respect for your patch and your rocker

Pour whiskey on his casket when they lowered him down
Two fingers flying high, when they put him in the ground
He was buried as an outlaw
Yeah he was buried as an outlaw

White lines, into the sun
They will ride, until it's done

Pour whiskey on his casket when they lowered him down
Two fingers flying high, when they put him in the ground
He was buried as an outlaw
Yeah he was buried as an outlaw

Yeah shout out to every club