Way before platinum there was a place we used to go and ride for hours at a time on a country road Whatever is troubling, you can let it go I get out of the car and walk through it, visit the river and talk to it Simply saying, "Mr. water, what is it that you running from?" Asked the bird in the tree, "What is it that you humming for?" Now knowing (Why the Caged Bird Sings) is wishing to be free Reminded myself of life and it's hold on me Touring, the children, women, sexual resistance Religion means so much to me, the church don't see enough of me This way, that way, bending corners trying to get away Sometimes you have to see a storm to appreciate a pretty day BACK in the car now, headed for the liquor store God, what a vivid scene, digging what I just seen Rolled up another one, still in a daze though Gassed up at the Mini-Mart, my mind on the country roads
I just want to go On the country roads and get blowed On the country roads again roll Been on the country roads again
Yo, we off in these backwoods Caddy-hogging, Nappy dog, ain't no joke We glad they robbing, rap imposter's, for they problem no hope It's cutthroat, we hungry starving, charging for the front do' You want mo'? We smoke and sparking, jokers like the blunt go Been shoving folk for plenty miles, yes I'm the type to grin and bear it The second chance and out the box, I'm back again with 'dro and spirits Look at me now, I found a spot, I'm down here by that rolling river Grab a rose and took me to a place, au revoir, I'm rolling scriptures
Man these country roads making me zone out Riding through all the bullshit that poppa would scold 'bout But soon as my hustle got good I showed out Quick to jump I-24, come back with plenty mo' By '97 I was smoking perfect o The chains and the Willie Esco was the dress code We lost our littlest cousin Gwin, a skid row Tony Renfrow rest in peace your kinfolks, I miss y'all
(Dude what the hell are we doing?) Back deep on these country roads blowing, getting in touch with my mind No worries just striped lines and curve-filled signs When all the events throughout the day, good or bad, somehow rewind While I recline, in my Cadillac seats Hit the trees and press repeat And let the melody of these windy roads keep my soul upbeat No destination proposed, just riding these country roads... Listen, this killer's that's willing to catch a court case Split your wig apart quicker than the divorce rate Niggaz show out, go wild in the corpse cage Blow out in the news and I don't mean the sports page Get drowned in North Lake, could get found in horse cave Fool, get down, the boy's crazy! Lil' Stille's with ambition, itching to fill my position Replace me, but by the Lord's grace still existing Should be in depression La trill is missing, cousins in prison Heard Little Ricky was snitching, now he's a born-again Christian Always had my suspicions, our teens with bad addictions Family members gone overseas on a mission, we miss 'em See you can travel straight through two different coasts State to state, navigate this beautiful globe In search of a plate full of food for the soul I could taste it when the smoke hit my nose On a place called country roads
Songwriters: HAMPTON, CARL MITCHELL / JACKSON, RAYMOND E. / BANKS, HOMER / FRANKLIN, ERNEST / SHEATS, DAVID A. / HUGHES, WILLIAM RAHSAAN / SCOTT, BRIAN K. / TISDALE, VITO J. / WILSON, RONALD LEE / ADAMS, MELVIN E. / ANTHONY, KENNETH R.