Ike & Tina Turner - Nutbush City Limits Lyrics

A church house, gin house
A school house, outhouse
On highway number nineteen
The people keep the city clean
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

Twenty-five was the speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go t'the store on Fridays
You go to church on Sundays
They call it Nutbush, been a long time, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

You go to the fields on week days
And have a picnic on Labor Day
You go to town on Saturday
But go to church every Sunday
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits

No whiskey for sale
You get caught, no bail
Salt pork and molasses
Is all you get in jail
They call it Nutbush, oh Nutbush
Yeah they call it Nutbush city
Nutbush city limits

A little old town in Tennessee, it's called
Quiet little old community, a one-horse town
You have to watch what you're puttin' down
In old Nutbush, they call it Nutbush