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• Artiste: Creed Fisher
• Titre: Outlaws
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I don't need religion To save my soul I sold my soul To rock & roll As I do this cocaine And drink down this shot of Jim Beam I can't help but think of the outlaws That came before me Drink down a bottle of whiskey And still find the door Snort up three lines of cocaine And still want three more The scars on his face and his hands Are easy to see I can't help but think of the outlaws That came before me We all get high We all get stoned We have been known to march to a beat That's all our own We won't let no one Tell us what to be I can't help but think of the outlaws That came before me We all get high We all get stoned We have been known to march to a beat That's all our own We won't let no one Tell us what to be I can't help but think of the outlaws That came before me Let's make a toast to all of the outlaws That came before me