Johnny Horton lyrics - America Remembers Johnny Horto

Battle Of New Orleans

Original and similar lyrics
In 1814 we took a little trip Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip We took a little bacon and we took a little beans And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans We fired our guns and the British kept acom'in There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago We fired once more and they began to runnin' On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico We looked down the river and we seed the British come And there must have been a hundred of'em beatin' on the drum They stepped so high and they made their bugles ring We stood behind our cotton bales and didn't say a thing We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin' There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago We fired once more and they began to runnin' On down the mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico Old Hickory said we could take'em by surprise If we didn't fire our muskets till we looked'em in the eyes We held our fire till we seed their faces well Then we opened up our squirrel guns and gave'em...well...we... ...fired our guns and the British kept a'comin' There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago We fired once more and they began to runnin' On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico Yeah they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch'em On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico We fired our cannon till the barrel melted down So we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round We filled his head with cannonballs'n powdered his behind And when we touched the powder off,the gator lost his mind We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin' There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago We fired once more and they began to runnin' On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico Yeah they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch'em On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico Spoken: Hut,hut,three,four Sound off, three,four Hut,hut, three,four Sound off,three,four Hut,hut,three,four

Gulf Of Mexico

ALABAMA "Pass It On Down"
Teddy Gentry/Robert Byrne, 3:59 I live to work and work to live Oh but what I wouldn't give For a ray of sun and a little piece of beach Where the sand dollar is the only currency Chorus: I vote we go to the Gulf of Mexico You and me by the sea Palm trees call me, oh that's the place I want to be Down where the southern breezes blow On the Gulf of Mexico Right at five o'clock today I'll pick you up, we'll drive away And I can't wait to feel the sand beneath my toes And I can almost see the sunburn on your nose Repeat chorus Vamos we go... (repeat chorus again) Tag Down where the southern breezes blow On the Gulf of Mexico On the Gulf of Mexico That's the place I want to be Down where the southern breezes blow On the Gulf of Mexico

Missisippi

AFROMAN "Because I Got High"
(Palmdale was like the peak of my life, but Palmdale over with, homeboy. I'm fittin' to go home cuz.) Please take me back home, (You know what I'm sayin') to Mississippi. (I got my Greyhound ticket right here, man. I'm fittin' to go back and kick it with my family, cuz.) Please take me back home, (take a couple pounds of this weed) to Mississippi. (You shmell me, homeboy. Yeah, take them fools back to '82, cuz.) Before South Central Palmdale flossin', I stayed in a place called Palmer's Crossing. Hattiesburg, Mississippi, smoking marijuana like a Woodstock hippy. All my homies in Laurel, beg borrow, buy my rap tape tomorrow. (Bucccoc!) Tell DJ Pumpkin Keep it crunckin' Clyde. Request my tape when you go inside So I can take Jane and girl to Waynesboro, fuck their little homegirl, make her toes curl, rock their world, leave with their Auntie Sheryl. She sucks me sucks me, fucks me fucks me, cries every time I leave Biloxi But I hops in the Coup, 'cause I gots to go scoop another ho from Tupelo Hit it once, hit it twice, then I hit it again. Hit it in Meridian, make that bitch rub her clit again, pinch the nipples on her tit again, suck my dick until she spit again. BUCCCOC! Please take me back home, (Hell yeah!) to Mississippi. Crooked letter, crooked letter, hump-back, hump-back, Afroman's the bomb, bump that! Please take me back home, (Hell yeah!) to Mississippi. From the delta to the coast, I'm doin' the most, grab your 40oz. Let's toast. I sold rock cocaine down in Ellisville. Baseheads hit the pipe, they can tell it's real. Kept my dope stashed with this hootchie, way down yonder in East Bouche. Cops be sweatin' outa town, dog. Sweatin' my car with a hound dog. Separate me from my bitch and shit, tryin' to get my bitch to fuckin' snitch and shit. Officer Roscoe P. Coltrane running warrant checks on the Afroman But I can't be no hip hop star cuffed in the back of some police car. Did you find the gun NO! Did you find the dope NO! Open up the back door. Well, son, you're free to go. A-F-R-O marijuana cargo, __ C'mon, Let's all get drunk tonight. I hope I don't fight with a punk tonight. Get nervous, as I swerve this Cadillac through Purvis. Hope I don't crash when I hit Petal, get my ass kicked in the white ghetto. Prejudice police won't let me go, so I'ma drive slow, hide my 'fro. I was dumb, now I'm dumber, y'all, last summer, y'all, I fucked all the little girls down in Sumrall. Grabbed my guitar and started pickin' a tune for Nikki and June down in Picayune, baby! Just like a shovel I be diggin' all the pretty young women in Wiggins. On the boat, Gulfport, I got my dick down some girl's throat. (BUCCCCOC!) I can't help it, I'm a Crip, baby. I think you need to wipe your lip, baby. Hula Hula Hula, the whole house ruler. What's up with all the bitches down in Pascagoula Small towns, small cities, but they still got big ol' asses plus titties. Is it a bird Is it a plane It's the hungry hustler, Afroman Flying through the air in my underwear, Geri curl activator in my hair. I'm in control like Janet, when I hit Jackson. Always getting plenty panty action. McClaine. Even McComb. Tell the whole world Mississippi's your home. Yazoo, Columbia and Natchez. I got the weed brother, who got the matches (I do.) Who got the funky DJ that scratches (I do.) Depend on me like my name was patches. First it was a black thing, just the big Willies. Now I roll Phillies with all the Hillbillies. Never ever thought I'd see the Klu Klux Klan buying front row seats for the Afroman Confederate flags tobacco in their mouth. It's a beautiful thing jumpin' off in the South. Afroman, I'm a part of it. Hattiesburg hip hop, I'm the start of it. I'm the latest. I'm the greatest, and all you haters, I'll mash you like potatoes. I'll make your girlfriend holler and scream, then cook me some cornbread and collard greens. BUCCCOC! Please take me back home, (Hell, yeah!) to Mississippi. Crooked letter, crooked letter, hump-back, hump-back, Afroman's the bomb, bump that! Please take me back home, (Hell yeah!) to Mississippi. From the delta to the coast, I'm doin' the most, grab your 40oz. Let's toast. !982, '83, '84 Erin, Broste, Carlos, and Tonto. Tryin' to break dance in my B-Boy stance, Micheal Jackson glove, parachute pants. Calvin Gary, Garnett Jones. G-dog, cuz, I don't believe we're grown. But hey, G-dog, you and me'll see dog. Whatever happens, cuz, it's you and me dog. Or should I say loc, (loc) cause you my folk (folk) so let's take a toke (toke) till we croak (croak). I'm a locster locster, honey spokester, drinking everyday like I'm supposed to. Bottle after bottle, dog, in my lip-a, flowing on the mic like the Mississippi river. Please take me back home, (Hell, yeah!) to Mississippi. Crooked letter, crooked letter, hump-back, hump-back, Afroman's the bomb, bump that! Please take me back home, (Get on down!) to Mississippi. From the coast to the delta, Afro, we felt ya. Boy you're so cold the sun can't melt ya. Please take me back home, (Yeee-ha!) to Mississippi. Crooked letter, crooked letter, hump-back, hump-back, Afroman's the bomb, bump that! Please take me back home, (Get on down!) to Mississippi. From the coast to the delta, Afro, we felt ya. Boy you're so cold the sun can't melt ya. Please take me back home, (We outta here.) to Mississippi.

British Intelligence

JAMIE T "Kings & Queens"
British Intelligence, they're on your back And they won't catch no one so they won't catch me Three, fours and right up your back And you just got sacked, now your money's not free Taking time has never won enough And three to the four when you're really wired Too much is never enough, now you're fired This is for the cold concrete sold by the feet Taxed by a man that I'm yet to meet Pay an army, I'm hardly ready to speak Memories start in 93 And [?] came round last week And told me she's sick and tired of women I'm still traveling trains delayed in the rain on a Monday morning Watched by surveillance teams business men live out their dreams And sleep with secretaries In stockrooms over flowed with coffee and machines While we're still riding Trying to find a place where they're not watching Called her up in the end To apologize for being so drunk and stubborn British Intelligence, they're on your back And they won't catch no one so they won't catch me Three, fours and right up your back And you just got sacked, now your money's not free Taking time has never won enough And three to the four when you're really wired Too much is never enough, now you're fired The 501's a selfish son Travel down the inner to the suburban He's lurking, burning cigarettes on We'll be on the bar that his lover works in And, and a legal lay in the end Jessie from the west said marry up quick Get lost in the system With a BCG and a finger print scan [?] Man, I was outside calling a friend Trying to save claim on the money I lent While were still riding Trying to find a place where their not watching Called her up again Identity cards and camera men British Intelligence, they're on your back And they won't catch no one so they won't catch me Three, fours and right up your back And you just got sacked, now your money's not free Taking time has never won enough And three to the four when you're really wired Too much is never enough, now you're fired He said Suzie, would you lose me in trouble? He said Suzie, let's move on the double Would we, please get him in trouble? He said could we, would we get him in trouble? So would you, should we better get him in trouble? Three weeks down and now you've burst you're British Intelligence, they're on your back And they won't catch no one so they won't catch me Three, fours and right up your back And you just got sacked, now your money's not free Taking time has never won enough And three to the four when you're really wired Too much is never enough, now you're fired

Awaiting The End

Jungle Rot
Mississippi moonshine's got me doubled over laughing in pain back at the Chevron the chicken wings made you feel just the same That bucket of bayou that licked you like a 5 pound block of salt I through it to the puppy that was yappin' on the hot asphalt The wisest word I ever heard was written on that bathroom wall in the mississippi river greasy spoon in southern Arkansas skimming 'cross the scrawl of the underground elite retorts I see a beacon to the traveler paraphrased sweet and short CHORUS A word to the wise a breath to the philosopher a hand to the devil a gift to the masses whatever you do don?t whatever you do don?t whatever you do don't take my advice Mister blister burning on the fumes of a day hard earned a bullet through the blue highways 'till the whole damn world is turned we're driving and we're driving until driving it don't feel real but it's so easy all you do is get some sleep behind the wheel Take a second to reflect on a peculiarity every stop we've made has shared a certain similarity there are juices and there's candies and there's sodas of all brand names but the message on the walls from town to town has been the same CHORUS Permanent marker with a fat tip scratch off the paint with a dime grease up the mirror with some lipstick a revolution is not a crime Finally before my eyes there it was for me to see at a truck stop in the lonely hills of eastern Tennessee I'd tell you how I felt if I could but I just can't When I happened on that bathroom with a fresh coat of paint CHORUS ...

Big Bayou

ROD STEWART "A Night On The Town"
I took a long, long trip to the city I was determined to get somewhere I spent all my hard earned money I had saved to put me there Big bayou where did you go To the river that's running slow and to the Gulf of Mexico Big bayou carry me home I took a cotton picking job in Memphis And the people there treated me good But my luck run bad in Nashville I had to walked the streets of Hollywood Big bayou where did you go To the river that's running slow into the Gulf of Mexico Big bayou carry me home Oh Lord I'm going home Where the fish jump in the air You know I don't need a lot of money Cause I ain't going nowhere Big bayou where did you go To the river that's running slow into the Gulf of Mexico Big bayou carry me home Big bayou carry me home To the river that's running slow into the Gulf of Mexico Big bayou where did you go I'm gonna catch a southbound train home one of these days

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