This is the lyrics for Trace Adkins Rough and Ready!

I don’t think there is any uhmm mistakes in the lyrics…

I hope you enjoy and like them!

Oh and Trace Adkins is the one who made the song not me so Don’t say I made the song on here lol… I just put the lyrics down on Powerpoint

I just noticed that it looks like I crossed out his face and I would just like to say I Didn’t do that lol

Duration : 0:3:22

Technorati Tags: Adkins, and, country, lyrics, Ready, rock, Rough, roughandreadylyrics, Trace, Traceadkins

Lyrics:
Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
They’d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded levis
And each night begins a new day
If you don’t understand him, and he don’t die young
He’ll probably just ride away

Chorus:
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars or drive them old trucks
Let ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such
Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
‘Cause they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys like smoky old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
Them that don’t know him won’t like him and them that do
Sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong, he’s just different but his pride won’t let him
Do things to make you think he’s right

Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for “fair use”? for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.

Duration : 0:3:53

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Naked Willie Finally the Willie Way
http://www.willienelsononline.com/

Willie Nelson on iLike.com: http://www.ilike.com/artist/Willie+Nelson

Willie Nelson on Facebook: http://apps.facebook.com/ilike/artist/Willie+Nelson

Willie Nelson Lyrics
http://www.ilike.com/artist/Willie+Nelson

“Mama Dont Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYJVCUrjnM4

Did yall know that before The Round-Up Saloon opened on July 11, 1980, the space was a gay disco called the Magnolia T.P. co-owner Gary Miller says.

What does the T. P. stand for?

Thunderpussy, Miller laughs.

Part of that name is still tied to the Round-Up (just not the T.P. part). The charter company that owns the Round-Up is called Magnolia Disco Corporation.

Steeped in boot-scootin Lone Star tradition, the Round-Up usually overwhelms out-of-towners. Not beneath the dance floor, visiting New Yorkers witness same-sex couples free spin, promenade, two-step and line dance, and they wish Manhattan had a twangy dance hall just like it. But the genuine gay country-western experience isnt easily exported.

This weekend, the Round-Up winds up its 28th anniversary celebration with a Friday night Karaoke bash and a retro-disco beer bust on Sunday.

The 10,000 square foot space used to be the Old Warsaw Restaurant. Over the years, there have been some changes.

The patio used to be a lot bigger, Miller remembers.

Almost all of the clubs early history was lost in a fire: In 1989, the Round-Up and two adjacent tenants were victims of a six-alarm fire — ignited by an arsonist who tried to cover up a burglary after stealing computers from the Dallas Gay Alliance. A few items survived, including the brass chandeliers in the karaoke parlor.

Maintaining a classic definition of western culture is part of the Round-Ups success.

Western shirts are tucked in. And we dont wear crumpled hats — no Madonna cowboy hats either, co-owner Alan Pierce says.

Miller and Pierce have been partners for 22 years: In 2006, they were married in Montreal. Miller grew up near the mouth of Red River; and Pierce in New Mexico. And like many Round-Up patrons, Miller and Pierce both had rodeo culture in common.

Like the gay rodeo circuit, gay country-western clubs emerged out of necessity — not to rebel against tradition. Old-school C&W culture — and specifically Nashville — are still very much homophobic. K.D. Langs phenomenal success changed perceptions a little. But Miller says the secret to the Round-Ups longevity isnt really about hats, dance steps or cocktails. Its because everyone here is so friendly.

Naked Willie Finally the Willie Way
http://www.willienelsononline.com/

Willie Nelson on iLike.com: http://www.ilike.com/artist/Willie+Nelson

Willie Nelson on Facebook: http://apps.facebook.com/ilike/artist/Willie+Nelson

Willie Nelson Lyrics
http://www.ilike.com/artist/Willie+Nelson

“Mama Dont Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYJVCUrjnM4

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
And they’d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levis

And each night begins a new day
And if you don’t understand him and he don’t die young
You’ll probably just ride away

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys like smoky old pool rooms, clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and children, girls of the night
And them that don’t know him won’t like him and them that do

Sometimes won’t know how to take him
He ain’t wrong, he’s just different but his pride won’t let him
Do things to make you think he’s right

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Don’t let ‘em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
Make ‘em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Duration : 0:4:42

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LYRICS:
Yo, uh, you didn’t see this one comin did ya
All the way from the N.O. to S.T.L.
Nelly-Nel and Lil’ Wayne

[Nelly]
On a scale one to ten I be rated a 12 (right!)
You know it and these cats hate it
I got nothing outdated
If it is it’s self rated
S-class wit everything voice-activated
Chrome rim three bladed, factory custom made it
Paid wit big faces; if it’s broke then replace it
Now it’s like that; Purple Haze and Cognac
On tha beach in L.A. with dime ridin my back

[Lil' Wayne]
I represent them street niggas
When they get hot, carry the heat niggas
Them sweet niggas off they feet niggas
You livin on the edge Fleet nigga
That’s why my clique we do or die and roll deep nigga
Ain’t nothing sweet nigga, recognize the bloody clothes
Ready to represent the Grove wit two calicoes
I carry 4’s in my side pocket
While yours a nigga mind poppin
Walk through you house wit my iron now when

Chorus: Nelly (repeat 2X)

This is for my niggaaassss
Who be keepin it tight
Only lovin dime that on the first night

This is for my bitchessss
Wit the style and grace
Who ain’t hear nothing talkin but the Benjamin face

[Nelly]
I ain’t bullshittin I trick em and run up in they kitchen
And she ain’t a nonadeada my niggas then I’m splitin
Get a code-red hop in the Jag and fled
Pump +Nore+ number six, “bitch give me some head”
And for you niggas out there who be jacking the wrist
Got a new group for ya, Nina Ross and the Clips
And from the hip I shoot, if you wanna get loot
Bout ta tell ya the truth
I’m more focused I’m born in the Lou’

Chorus

[Lil' Wayne]
I ain’t no busta nigga
Came up out that Holly Grove dungeon nigga
Flame up and toast let it get sparkin up in here
You don’t make out alive very often up in here
I’ma speak on behalf of the C.M.B. partna
I’m a sweep off ya air if its standing beef partna
I skeet off a bag of the dilly-D partna
Slip me on a mask hit the Benz wit three choppers
Weezy-wez partna

[Nelly]
Four karats in my earring, five around my knuckle
Six wrap the wrist, check the belt buckle
Leave them wit it look like Nelly I didn’t know
If you was the Jackie Frost why didn’t you say so
Somebody gotta shine my nigga why not me
Even my dentist told me floss 7 days a week
Freeza brought out the piece Gucci and hat sweet
Butter soft leather seats for trash talkin’ freaks

Chorus

[Nelly]
This is for my niggaaaaaaaasssssssss

{*talking through megaphone*}
Uh, uh, ha bet ya no were ready for that one hu, ha, ha
We know ya didn’t see that one comin
Uh, uh ee-yah
Uh, uh wodie

-
Erzeugt mit AquaSoft DiaShow für YouTube: http://www.aquasoft.de

Duration : 0:4:14

Technorati Tags: country, Dirty, For, grammar, lil, lyrics, my, Nelly, Wayne

Download this song and other Lil KeKe / Swisha House tracks as a ringtone at http://ringtoneballers.net

Welcome to the uh Southside,
no, uh-uh, I said the Southside of H-Town.
you gotta peep game, you know what I’m sayin cuz um,
Texas from the south
and Louisiana from the south
and Mississippi from the south
Atlanta, Georgia from the south

Chorus:

That’s why we doin the uh
South Side, the South Side, yeah
the South Side, the South Side, everybody do the,
South Side, the South Side, yeah,
the South Side, the South Side, raise your hands and do the
South Side, the South Side, yeah,
the South Side, the South Side,
shokarock it do the South Side, the South Side yeah,
the South Side, the South Side,

H-town is thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (uh-huh)
We’re thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (alright)
We’re thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (what?)
I’m throwin up the duce, and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab,

Verse1

I woke up early, jumped in the butta
[Versace]sace shades pushin blades, let them four burn rubber.
I swung and I swang, you know that nigga clean.
Hit the Belfort and the [Martin Luther]King, Europeans with the screens.
Bigga fo tank, everything cash
glass pop red throw the wood in the dash.
Mashin on the gas is a thug like Green.
Prompt for a young I see not in the pin
showin naked and my stories `bout to kill ya.
Seventeen hundred west appalova silver.
Hit the school zone, fourteen shoocky,
caught that lil duce sideways sittin crocked
Pulled in Exxon nuthin less then supreme
never slippin but I’m trippin candy red on the scene.
Flossin on the hoes, tossin on them women
gotta pop the trunk for that nigga pad lemon

Alright we’re thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (uh-huh)
We’re thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (alright)
We’re thowin up the duce
and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab, (what?)
I’m throwin up the duce, and givin niggas dab
you know the Southside actin bad on the slab,

Verse2

Ashes to ashes dust to dust,
lead in the bus, sweets and tusk
mobbin heavy in a Chevy,
breaking concrete, Polo on my body and Nikes on my feet.
Hold ya horses these is choices in the presence of a playa
buckle up the belt threw the Southern Himalayas
Raise up off the dick , because you see ya nigga glowin’
over seas blowin trees with a long esa mowin’.
Mary Jane on the plane ain’t a thing changed.
Peace a chain, diamond ring, cause I’m thowed in the game.
Back in nine-five I was broke catchin cabs.
Fuck ‘em all I’m a ball. Chop it up on the slab

chorus :

Cause I’m thowin up the duce,
and givin niggas dab.
You know the Southside actin bad on the slab.
Alright we thowin’ up the duce,
and givin niggas dab.
You know the Southside actin bad on the slab.
We do the Southside, the Southside, yeah.
The Southside, the Southside, everybody do the,
Southside, the Southside, yeah.
the Southside, the Southside, yeah.

Raise yo hands, so so high, rub ya head, and do the Southside.
Do the shockin’ and the rockin’, from left to right,
look fly, get high with ya swisha rolled tight.
I might just do, the Southside with you,
It’s easy and new, break it down and jam it screwed.
draws stankin curls if that’s the way you hit ‘em
movin’ side to side with ya motion and ya rhythm,
you still in move, stay in the groove
keep your high and you really can’t lose
I’m a lift my head, and keep my pride
and let the whole world do the Southside.

We doin’ the Southside, the Southside, yeah
the Southside, the Southside, everybody do the,
Southside, the Southside, yeah,
the Southside, the Southside, raise your hands and do the
Southside, the Southside, yeah,
the Southside, Southside,
shokarock it do the Southside, the Southside yeah,
the Southside, the Southside
It feel good to do the Southside,

Verse 4

The Southside ain’t threw.
The Southside it’s here new and it’s screw.
and it’s me Lil’ Ke’ and the Hershalwood click.
If you don’t like it get up off the Southside dick.
Smoke another blunt,
pull another stunt.
Jammed down in the front on a million dollar hunt.
So raise your hands,
and open up wide,
and get yo the whole Southside.
yeahhhhhh

Duration : 0:4:57

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Download this song as a ringtone at http://kanyetones.net

Lyrics:

[Kanye] (Jeezy)
La La La La (YEAH)
Wait till I get my money right

[Verse 1 - Young Jeezy]
Snowman (Bitch), Need I say More? (More? )
When you get done wit these, look I got twenty more (Ha Ha! )
Still got blow money cause nigga I know money (Money)
Now I’m on the road gettin fifty-a-show money
Still sittin on white bricks (Bricks), wrapped in duck tape (Tape)
Thirty minutes flat, I can bake a whole cake (Yeah! )
Got a pocket full of stacks, safe full of blocks (Blocks)
Then they come through, look at the stones on the watch (Geah! )
Iced-out belt buckle, they never had a chance
Dropped sixty-grand, just to hold up my pants (Ha Ha! )
Still got the chevy, spent a grip on the Lambo
Twelve carats in my ear just to show em what I stand fo’ (Aye! )

[Hook]
La laa lala wait till I get my money right
La laa lala then you can’t tell me nothing right

[Chorus - Kanye] (Jeezy)
La La La La (HEY)
Wait till I get my money right
La La La La (YEAH)
Then you can’t tell me nothing right (Why are we… late)
Excuse me, is you saying something?
Uh uh, you can’t tell me nothing (YEAH)
You can’t tell me nothing (HAHA)
Uh uh, you can’t tell me nothing

[Verse 2 - Kanye West]
Let the champaigne splash
Let that man get cash
Let that man get pass (Oh oh oh oh oh)
You don’t needa stop to get gas
If he can move through the rumors
He can drive off the fumes cause (Why are we… late)
How you move in a room full of nose?
How you stay faithful in a room full of hoes?
Must be the pharoahs, he in tune with his soul
So when he buried in a tomb full of gold (Oh oh oh oh oh)
Treasure, what’s your pleasure?
Life is a, HUH, depending how you dress her (Oh oh oh oh oh)
So if the devil wear Prada, Adam Eve wear nada
I’m in between but way more fresher (Why are we… late)
But way less effort, cause when you try hard
That’s when you die hard (Oh oh oh oh oh)
Ya homies looking like +Why God? +
When they reminice over you my God

[Chorus - Kanye] (Jeezy)
La La La La (HEY)
Wait till I get my money right
La La La La (YEAH)
Then you can’t tell me nothing right (Why are we… late)
Excuse me, is you saying something?
Uh uh, you can’t tell me nothing (YEAH)
You can’t tell me nothing (HAHA)
Uh uh, you can’t tell me nothing

Duration : 0:5:31

Technorati Tags: cant, feat, featuring, ft, jeezy, kanye, lyrics, me, Music, new, nothin, nothing, nuthin, remix, rmx, tell, Video, west, with, young, yung