Kid Rock Lyrics

Kid Rock - Cowboy

Cowboy, cowboy

Well, I'm packin up my game and I'ma head out west
Where real women come equipped wit' scripts and fake breasts
Find a nest in the hills, chill like flynt
Buy an old drop-top, find a spot to pimp

Then I'ma Kid Rock-it up and down ya' block
With a bottle of scotch and watch lotsa crotch
Buy a yacht with a flag sayin' "Chillin' the most"
Then rock that bitch up and down the coast

Give a toast to the sun
Drink with the stars
Get thrown in the mix
And get tossed outta bars

Zip to Tijuana
I wanna roam
Find Motown, tell them fools to come back home
Start an escort service for all the right reasons
And set up shop at the top of four seasons
Kid Rock, and I'm the Real Mccoy
And I'm headed out west, sucker because I want to be a

Cowboy, baby
(With the top let back and the sunshine shinin')
Cowboy, baby
(West Coast Chillin' with the Boone's wine) I want to be a cowboy, baby
(Ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day) cowboy, baby
(I can smell a pig from a mile away)

I bet you'll hear my whistle blowin' when my train rolls in
It goes, like dust in the wind
(Stoned pimp, stoned freak, stoned out of my mind)
I once was lost, but now I'm just blind

Palm trees and weed, scabbed knees and rice
Get a map to the stars, find Heidi Fleiss
And if the price is right then I'm gonna make my bid, boy
And let Californi-A know why they call me

Cowboy, baby
(With the top let back and the sunshine shinin')
Cowboy, baby
(West Coast Chillin' with the Boone's Wine) I want to be a cowboy, baby
(Ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day) cowboy, baby
(I can smell a pig from a mile away)

Yeah, Kid Rock, you can call me Tex
Rollin' sunset women with a bottle of Beck's
Seen a slimmy in a 'Vette, rolled down my glass
And said, "Yeah, this fits right in yo'"
No kiddin', gun slingin', spurs hittin' the floor
Call me hoss, I'm the boss, with the sauce, and the horse
No remorse for the sheriff, in his eye I ain't right
I'ma paint his town red, then paint his wife white
Cause chaos, rock like Amadeus
Find west-coast pussy for my Detroit playas
Mack like mayors, ball like Lakers
They told us to leave but bet they can't make us

Why they want to pick on me?
Lock me up and snort away my key
I ain't G, I'm just a regular failure
I ain't straight outta Compton, I'm straight out the trailer
Cuss like a sailor, drink like a mick
My only words of wisdom are (radio edit)
I'm flickin' my Bic up and down that coast and
Keep on truckin' 'til I fall in the ocean

(Cowboy) with the top let back and the sunshine shinin'
(Cowboy) spend all my time at Hollywood and Vine
(Cowboy) ridin' at night 'cause I sleep all day
(Cowboy) I can smell a pig from a mile away
(Cowboy) with the top let back and the sunshine shinin'
(Cowboy) with the top let back and the sunshine shinin'
(Cowboy) Hollywood and Vine-in'

Written by:
James Kenneth Trombly, John A. Travis, Matthew L. Shafer, Robert J. Ritchie

Publisher:
Lyrics © CRADLE THE BALLS, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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