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Tore Up
by
Upchurch
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Lyrics
The only time I see you is when we're in a crowd You're with your friends and I'm with mine, the music's bumpin' loud You used to be the girl that didn't go out on the town Now you have these crazy nights on Instagram you post about And through the neon smoke On a midtown strip When I'm home alone You're out with your friends I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up about it Up about it, up about it, up about it (I still get tore up about it, up about it) Uh, yeah we ain't as young as we once was Back when I had no tattoos, no ID to get in clubs We walked Broadway lookin' at the lights and nightlife that we never seen Breathin' in those toxic fumes from buses sittin' on Second Ave Trying to sneak in to the spots where all the big boys used to roam around I was 130 pound soakin' wet but I felt like Zeus when you was around A long way from them county roads in a small taste of that city life Sweet smell of that Jack Daniel's, old cigarette smoke and neon lights With Alan Jackson from the background comin' from a country cover band And a homeless lady on a street corner killin' it when she plays that violin Johnny and June on them alley walls that slapped up way back when We didn't know shit about life just six months in to havin' our license And if these words were Polaroids these pictures would be priceless But these thoughts up in my head keep replayin' because they're timeless So whenever you're out up on the town cheers to the times that we had Let the flames of life drift down the strip of Music City I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up about it Up about it, up about it, up about it (I still get tore up about it, up about it) Yeah, huh, not as young as we was, right? Now I've been kicked out of every bar except the one I'm sittin' in tonight I had about twelve drafts and two shots, now I'm in a back alley smokin' pot Prolly stumbled into a fist fight with some jockey dudes and get roughed up But it's all good that Jack Daniel's got me f*cked up as always And if I leave this neon strip it's lookin' like I fought a saw blade Got alcohol on my white suede, car parked on Broadway No pretty lady in the passenger 'cause of dumb choices that I made I start the Chevy and it's always her song bumpin' through them sound waves One bullet in that pistol Smith & Wesson come take the pain away I talk to my drunk self and tell my sober self I can't take me So I pull the gun on my other half like, "Why you always blamin' me?" I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up about it Up about it, up about it, up about it (I still get tore up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up (Up about it) I still get tore up I still get tore up about it (Up about it) I still get tore up about it Up about it, up about it, up about it (I still get tore up about it)
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