Luyện nghe bài hát Son Of The South

SON OF THE
Writer Anderson

I was born eatin' gravy and peas
Cracklin' bread and turnip
Washin' 'em down a big
I'm a son of the
I've picked tomatoes off of the
Watermelon in the
Ate 'em in the of a Georgia pine
I'm a son of the
I'm a son of a son of a son of the
For of "bless your heart"
And "honey chile, your mouth"
My great grandaddy Robert E. Lee
I knew and he knew me
I learned about at my mama's knee
Like good son of the south
I had one was a preacher man
He loved the lord and he sin
He used to let me go to church him
He was a son of the
My grandpappy ran a moonshine still
Up in the high on a hill
He me there once and that was a thrill
He was a son of the
Now got a little boy six years old
He knows and he didn't have to be
He was born with a whole lot of
He's a son of the
He's already picked and a little guitar
Drank his from a mason jar
He knows good and where his roots are
a son of the south

Save your confederate money,
I'm a son of the south.