27 - New West

If I die at twenty-seven

Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix

I’ll be smiling far from heaven

Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven

Hol' up, take in this trip for a sec

God made me wicked but I need some rest

Holes in my pockets, the gold on my neck

It’s getting too heavy I can’t catch a breath

The lord came and bought me a Mercedes-Benz

Drove to the crossroads to drink with my friends

Shit is Nirvana more doors to the thrills

I’m high but I’m falling asleep at the wheel

Glass of red wine, house in the hills

Riding with death like the king: Jean Michel

Shit that I’m on makes it harder to sleep

But I’ll rest in peace when I’m down six feet deep

If I die at twenty-seven

Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix

I’ll be smiling far from heaven

Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven

If I die at twenty-seven

Shooting whiskey down with Hendrix

I’ll be smiling far from heaven

Count my blessings If I die at twenty-seven