Sweet Lyrics by Toby Keith

Sweet Lyrics

    Tell it like it is

    He gets up real early on his mornin' drive
    Down to the office for his 9 to 5
    He drives a 94' two tone economy car
    Loves to tell the local bands down at the bar
    That he's the critic, yeah I can hook you up
    I know everybody in the business

    He flunked junior high band he couldn't march in time
    He tried to write a song once, but he couldn't make it rhyme
    He learned 2 or 3 chords on a pawn shop guitar
    He just never quite had what it took to be a star
    So he's a critic I work for the gazette man
    I got a real job

    He did a 5 star column on a band you never heard
    He did a bluegrass review without an unkind word
    He thought it was time to ask his boss for a raise
    His boss said I can't even tell if anybody's even readin' your page
    yeah

    So he thought and he thought a little more
    He caught a young hot star headed into town
    Then he hid behind his typewriter and gunned the boy down
    Here come the letters, the emails, the he faxes
    They raised him to 20 thousand dollars after taxes
    He's a happy critic yeah
    He's rollin' in the dough
    Man I could do this forever
    This is easy
    They're all readin' my column
    Please don't tell my mama
    That I write the music column for the gazette
    She still thinks, that I play piano down at the cathouse

    Let's get funky with this now boys
    Play it on
    Come on Shannon
    There's ol' Bill jumpin' in
    Glenn's layin' it down
    Come on Shannon
    Aah My man Steve
    Man my fingers are gettin' tired Ya'll gonna have to hurry
    This snappin' thing wearin' me out
    Theres ol Shannon guess he was on a coffee break
    They're gonna love you cause they already love me
    Yeah It's the critic


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