My homes in Oildale

  For my legion of loyal haters, hate this.  

Drinking was encouraged in my Oildale tweaker home,

Mama went on welfare when my dad left her alone.

Stoned on crystal meth one night I learned to play guitar,

It started out with Slayer then I took it a little too far.

My homes in Oildale, no matter where I lose my head 

My homes in Oildale,

 if I don’t sleep I might get dead.

Sheriff Donny Youngblood said, he don’t give a rip 

Let every street in the Dale run red with the blood of them tweaker kids

He sent a chopper to my house it circled every night 

It followed me all over town even though I was doing right.  

Whupped em again Jonesy…

My homes in Oildale, no matter where I lose my head 

My homes in Oildale, 

if I don’t sleep I might get dead.

Daddy drove his tractor trailer from the east toward the sun 

He’d be up for so many days he forgot which road he was running 

When he reached the end of the line he tumbled to the sea

These were the final words he said into that old CB

My homes in Oildale no matter where I lost my head 

My homes in Oildale, 

holy shit I just got dead…

Not really, I hate oildale even more than I hate the other side of the bridge.  Forget that place.  

Don’t get dead, bro. 

Update:  when you look at the GPS location of my cell phone and the FAA records along with the dozens of photos and video clips of the ghetto bird circling my house and showing up on my location over and over again my story is true.   Which tells me it was sanctioned from the top   Beef on this bitches…

One of the most corrupt counties in the USA, that’s all.