40oz. To Freedom

You’ve got your hair permed.
You’ve got your red dress on.
Screamin', «that second gear was such a turn on.»
And the fog forming on my window,
Tells me that the morning’s here.
And you’ll be gone before too long.
Who taught you those new tricks?
Damn; I shouldn’t start that talk.
But life is one big question,
When you’re starin' at the clock.
And the answer’s always waiting,
At the liquor store,
Forty-Ounce to Freedom; so I take that walk.
And I know that,
Ooh, I’m not going back.
Oh, I’m not going back.
Oh, lord knows, I’m not going back.
Ooh, I’m not going, not going, not going.
And you look so fine,
When you lie it just don’t show.
I know which way the wind blows.
A Forty-Ounce to Freedom is the only chance I have,
To feel good; even though I feel bad.
And I know that,
Ooh, I’m not going back.
Oh Oh, I’m not going back.
Oh, lord knows, I’m not going back.
Ooh, I’m not going, not going, not going.
And I know that,
Ooh, I’m not going back.
Oh, oh, I’m not going back.
Oh, lord knows, I’m not going back.
Ooh…