Well, well, well (Haha) Well, well, well (I'm gonna take another sip) And my mom says I need Jesus Oh, no, no, no I don't hate, I don't hate the bottle (I don't hate the bottle) I don't hate the bottle but her temperament towards me Is always sour, never sweet, we ain't get along (We ain't get along) And my mom says I need Jesus, but my grandpa says I'm fine Since I swapped whiskey for the wine to talk to God Intoxicated off a Mary and I don't know where to go But I know I'm on the road, so let's get it on I know my momma would be proud of me because I rap and yeah, I sing Before it happened, she had seen me kill it on the road Down in base of the Texas we got a whole lotta bitches and whole lotta guns We cause a whole lotta hell, when have a whole lotta fun, pistol with a drum We be burnin' Texas nights, yeah, we been on [?] Middle fingers to the sky, doin' what we want (Doin' what we want) I don't hate the bottle but her temperament towards me Is always sour, never sweet, we ain't get along (We ain't get along) And my mom says I need Jesus, but my grandpa says I'm fine Since I swapped whiskey for the wine to talk to God When it all falls down Tell me, what do we have now? When there's no more sips and I miss your lips My head is spinning around How could something so toxic be so intoxicating? Sedating? Yet I'm impatient to get you adjacent Love, hate relation Left my heart racing, but I don't hate the bottle but her temperament towards me Is always sour, never sweet, we ain't get along (We ain't get along) And my mom says I need Jesus, but my grandpa says I'm fine Since I swapped whiskey for the wine to talk to God