Toby Keith - The Critic lyrics
[Toby Keith - The Critic lyrics]
Tell it like it is
He gets up real early on his morning drive
Down to the office for his 9 to 5
He drives a 94, 2 ton, economy car
Loves to tell the local bands down at
The bar that he's The Critic
Yea, 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
He couldn't make it rhyme
He went two or three 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 he never heard
He did a bluegrass review
About 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 reading your page yeah
So he thought and he thought a little more
He caught a young hot star heading into town
And then he hid behind his typewriter
And gunned the boy down
Here come the letters, the e mails, the faxes
They raised him to 20
000 dollars after taxes he's a happy critic
He's rolling in the dough
Man I could do this forever this
Is easy everybody's reading my column!
Please don't tell my mom
That I write the music column for the Gazette
She still thinks I play piano
Down at the Cathouse
Let's get funky with this now
Boys play it on out
Come on Shannon there's ole Biff jumping in
Liam's laying it down come on Shannon
Aw yeah, my man Steve
Man my fingers are getting tired y'all
Going to have to hurry
This snapping thing wearing me out
Hello Shannon guess he's on coffee break man
They're going to love you cause
They already love me (yeah) it's the Critic
He gets up real early on his morning drive
Down to the office for his 9 to 5
He drives a 94, 2 ton, economy car
Loves to tell the local bands down at
The bar that he's The Critic
Yea, 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
He couldn't make it rhyme
He went two or three 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 he never heard
He did a bluegrass review
About 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 reading your page yeah
So he thought and he thought a little more
He caught a young hot star heading into town
And then he hid behind his typewriter
And gunned the boy down
Here come the letters, the e mails, the faxes
They raised him to 20
000 dollars after taxes he's a happy critic
He's rolling in the dough
Man I could do this forever this
Is easy everybody's reading my column!
Please don't tell my mom
That I write the music column for the Gazette
She still thinks I play piano
Down at the Cathouse
Let's get funky with this now
Boys play it on out
Come on Shannon there's ole Biff jumping in
Liam's laying it down come on Shannon
Aw yeah, my man Steve
Man my fingers are getting tired y'all
Going to have to hurry
This snapping thing wearing me out
Hello Shannon guess he's on coffee break man
They're going to love you cause
They already love me (yeah) it's the Critic