Letra de Accidental Racist (Feat. Ll Cool J) - Brad Paisley
Letra de canci�n de Accidental Racist (Feat. Ll Cool J) de Brad Paisley lyrics
(feat. Ll Cool J)
To the man that waited on me at the Starbucks down on Main, I hope you understand
When I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I�m a Skynyrd fan
The red flag on my chest somehow is like the elephant in the corner of the south
And I just walked him right in the room
Just a proud rebel son with an �ol can of worms
Lookin� like I got a lot to learn but from my point of view
I�m just a white man comin� to you from the southland
Tryin� to understand what it�s like not to be
I�m proud of where I�m from but not everything we�ve done
And it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
Our generation didn�t start this nation
We�re still pickin� up the pieces, walkin� on eggshells, fightin� over yesterday
And caught between southern pride and southern blame
They called it Reconstruction, fixed the buildings, dried some tears
We�re still siftin� through the rubble after a hundred-fifty years
I try to put myself in your shoes and that�s a good place to begin
But it ain�t like I can walk a mile in someone else�s skin
�Cause I�m a white man livin� in the southland
Just like you I�m more than what you see
I�m proud of where I�m from but not everything we�ve done
And it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
Our generation didn�t start this nation
And we�re still paying for mistakes
That a bunch of folks made long before we came
And caught between southern pride and southern blame
Dear Mr. White Man, I wish you understood
What the world is really like when you�re livin� in the hood
Just because my pants are saggin� doesn�t mean I�m up to no good
You should try to get to know me, I really wish you would
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/accidental-racist--feat--ll-cool-j--brad-paisley.php
Now my chains are gold but I�m still misunderstood
I wasn�t there when Sherman�s March turned the south into firewood
I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could
Feel like a new fangled Django, dodgin� invisible white hoods
So when I see that white cowboy hat, I�m thinkin� it�s not all good
I guess we�re both guilty of judgin� the cover not the book
I�d love to buy you a beer, conversate and clear the air
But I see that red flag and I think you wish I wasn�t here
I�m just a white man
(If you don�t judge my do-rag)
Comin� to you from the southland
(I won�t judge your red flag)
Tryin� to understand what it�s like not to be
I�m proud of where I�m from
(If you don�t judge my gold chains)
But not everything we�ve done
(I�ll forget the iron chains)
it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
(Can�t re-write history baby)
Oh, Dixieland
(The relationship between the Mason-Dixon needs some fixin�)
I hope you understand what this is all about
(Quite frankly I�m a black Yankee but I�ve been thinkin� about this lately)
I�m a son of the new south
(The past is the past, you feel me)
And I just want to make things right
(Let bygones be bygones)
Where all that�s left is southern pride
(RIP Robert E. Lee but I�ve gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean)
It�s real, it�s real
It�s truth
To the man that waited on me at the Starbucks down on Main, I hope you understand
When I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I�m a Skynyrd fan
The red flag on my chest somehow is like the elephant in the corner of the south
And I just walked him right in the room
Just a proud rebel son with an �ol can of worms
Lookin� like I got a lot to learn but from my point of view
I�m just a white man comin� to you from the southland
Tryin� to understand what it�s like not to be
I�m proud of where I�m from but not everything we�ve done
And it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
Our generation didn�t start this nation
We�re still pickin� up the pieces, walkin� on eggshells, fightin� over yesterday
And caught between southern pride and southern blame
They called it Reconstruction, fixed the buildings, dried some tears
We�re still siftin� through the rubble after a hundred-fifty years
I try to put myself in your shoes and that�s a good place to begin
But it ain�t like I can walk a mile in someone else�s skin
�Cause I�m a white man livin� in the southland
Just like you I�m more than what you see
I�m proud of where I�m from but not everything we�ve done
And it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
Our generation didn�t start this nation
And we�re still paying for mistakes
That a bunch of folks made long before we came
And caught between southern pride and southern blame
Dear Mr. White Man, I wish you understood
What the world is really like when you�re livin� in the hood
Just because my pants are saggin� doesn�t mean I�m up to no good
You should try to get to know me, I really wish you would
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/accidental-racist--feat--ll-cool-j--brad-paisley.php
Now my chains are gold but I�m still misunderstood
I wasn�t there when Sherman�s March turned the south into firewood
I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could
Feel like a new fangled Django, dodgin� invisible white hoods
So when I see that white cowboy hat, I�m thinkin� it�s not all good
I guess we�re both guilty of judgin� the cover not the book
I�d love to buy you a beer, conversate and clear the air
But I see that red flag and I think you wish I wasn�t here
I�m just a white man
(If you don�t judge my do-rag)
Comin� to you from the southland
(I won�t judge your red flag)
Tryin� to understand what it�s like not to be
I�m proud of where I�m from
(If you don�t judge my gold chains)
But not everything we�ve done
(I�ll forget the iron chains)
it ain�t like you and me can re-write history
(Can�t re-write history baby)
Oh, Dixieland
(The relationship between the Mason-Dixon needs some fixin�)
I hope you understand what this is all about
(Quite frankly I�m a black Yankee but I�ve been thinkin� about this lately)
I�m a son of the new south
(The past is the past, you feel me)
And I just want to make things right
(Let bygones be bygones)
Where all that�s left is southern pride
(RIP Robert E. Lee but I�ve gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean)
It�s real, it�s real
It�s truth
