Song Lyrics
Well, mama sent me down to the mac, oh
BC bottles and a bag of tobacco
Said her boss was an asshole
She been on the line just breakin' her back though
I need a rope with a lasso
To catch a pot of gold and get past the hassle
To get my mama a castle
Pink Cadillac with the matching tassels
Tick my daddy off with that backhoe
Send him down to Florida to fish on the bass boat
And a truck to match
So he can roll around town pullin' his bass boat
Lord, I'm a dreamer, I can't pay her
She'll be on the line till daddy can come save her
Could've been rich, a star, a ballplayer
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
We hail a quarter pound of pot in a shoebox
Got five grand stuffed in a tube sock
Ain't got no fucking credit to use
I paid cash for my car, but do you slide?
Small town trappin' to Seeco
Still keepin' it cool in the pistol
Me and dope's like green to a pickle
Yeah, like a haystack to a sicko
Never brought back home a report card
Spent more time in court, dog
But in it, stood up time, it's a short fall
Still servin' out, jump off the porch, dawg
I just blow the smoke in the air
Raised by pirates, curse like a sailor
Could probably get a job if I cut my hair
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
Well, mama sent me down to the mac, oh
BC bottles and a bag of tobacco
Said her boss was an asshole
She been on the line just breakin' her back though
I need a rope with a lasso
To catch a pot of gold and get past the hassle
To get my mama a castle
Pink Cadillac with the matching tassels
Tick my daddy off with that backhoe
Send him down to Florida to fish on the bass boat
And a truck to match
So he can roll around town pullin' his bass boat
Lord, I'm a dreamer, I can't pay her
She'll be on the line till daddy can come save her
Could've been rich, a star, a ballplayer
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
We hail a quarter pound of pot in a shoebox
Got five grand stuffed in a tube sock
Ain't got no fucking credit to use
I paid cash for my car, but do you slide?
Small town trappin' to Seeco
Still keepin' it cool in the pistol
Me and dope's like green to a pickle
Yeah, like a haystack to a sicko
Never brought back home a report card
Spent more time in court, dog
But in it, stood up time, it's a short fall
Still servin' out, jump off the porch, dawg
I just blow the smoke in the air
Raised by pirates, curse like a sailor
Could probably get a job if I cut my hair
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
Opie Taylor
But I got no cares, Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor
(Opie, Opie, Opie) Opie Taylor