Little Johnny walks out to the garage, and sees Dad smoking a cigarette… He asks, “Hey Dad, can I have a puff of that cigarette??” Dad asks, “Well Johnny, can your dick reach your ass??” Little Johnny scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment… He then replies, “Well, No Dad, my dick can’t reach my ass”… His Dad says, “There’s your answer, Johnny…” Little Johnny goes back in the house…
About an hour later Little Johnny comes back out to the garage, and sees his Dad drinking a beer… He asks, “Hey Dad, can I have some of that beer??” Dad asks, “Well Johnny, can your dick reach your ass??” Little Johnny scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment… He then replies, “Well, No Dad, my dick can’t reach my ass”… His Dad says, “There’s your answer, Johnny…” Little Johnny goes back in the house…
About an hour later Little Johnny comes back out to the garage with a BIG plate of Tollhouse Chocolate Chip cookies, fresh from the oven… His Dad says, “WOW Johnny, those sure look like some good cookies… You think I can have some??” Little Johnny asks his Dad, “Well Dad, can your dick reach your ass??” His Dad scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment… He then replies, “Well, Yes Johnny, I do believe my dick can reach my ass”… Little Johnny says, “Well Dad, you can go FUKC yourself, cuz Mom made these cookies for me!!!”…
Don’t Touch My Truck-By: Breland and Sam Hunt
You can drink my liquor You can call my lady You can take my money You can smoke my blunt Scuff these Jordans You can say you hate me You can call me crazy, but Don’t touch my truck (skrrt, skrrt) Skrrt (yeah, yeah) Skrrt Don’t touch my truck (brrp, yeah) Skrrt (woo-oh) Skrrt Don’t touch my V8 engine with
the windows tinted Boy, we came from the bottom, got it out the mud Whole block jumpin’ ‘cause the subs stay hittin’ If they roll up on me, know I keep one tucked (ooh, yeah) Woo Tell them boys come and get me I be ridin’ through the city Young, rich and I’m pretty Homie, don’t get it twisted Keep a semi in the hemi (oh) red cup full of Henny My hitters come in plenties, for real You can drink my liquor You can call my lady You can take my money You can smoke my blunt Scuff these Jordans You can say you hate me You can call me crazy, but Don’t touch my truck (skrrt, skrrt) Skrrt (yeah, yeah) Skrrt Don’t touch my truck (brrp, yeah) Skrrt (woo-oh) Skrrt Don’t touch my Wood grain dash with the matte black finish And it match my shawty with the big ol’ butt Know them boys soft ‘cause they got hard feelings You can try me if you wanna go and test your luck (woo) Tell them boys come and get me (get me) I be ridin’ through the city Young, rich and I’m pretty (yeah) Homie, don’t get it twisted (yeah) Keep a semi in the hemi (in the hemi) red cup full of Henny (yeah, we drinking) My hitters come in plenties, for real You can drink my liquor You can call my lady You can take my money You can smoke my blunt Scuff these Jordans You can say you hate me You can call me crazy, but Don’t touch my truck Skrrt Skrrt Don’t touch my truck Skrrt Skrrt Don’t touch my Woo,
ooh, woo, ooh, woo, ooh Don’t touch my truck (woo, ooh) Don’t touch my truck