Lyrics:
name
Walk me to the locker room and say, "Son, good game!" (For real!)
You make a tackle, but nobody there to clap for em
So I'm writing down my
and say, "Son, good game!" (For real!)
You make a tackle, but nobody there to clap
So I'm writing down my feelings, never knew it was a rap
Our house
he's gonna do you in
You know what's good for yourself son
You better find somebody else son
Don't tamper with the property of the U.S. male
It’s been an awful dreaded month at sea
They give ‘em out these days for free
Said it’s all good here keep your game up son
Be the best that you can
refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
Good morning, America
How are you?
Say don't you know me? I'm your native son
I'm
dead
Hand to God with one foot in the grave
Age of lost innocence
Don't forget what your good book says
No son of mine
No son of mine
No son
your native son
I'm the train they call the city of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealin' card games with
don't need a cell
Fucking shit up from the jump
I'm just a kid in a rut
Playing with knives and guns
Father you made a good son
Bitch I gotta game for you
at the bar, just gave me a wink
Flashed my Platinum card and buy her a drink
From that look she's giving me, son, it's a damn good thing
I got my game
your native son
I'm the train they call the city of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealin' card games with
Live
And not live
The end of the game
Is to fell real good
never came home
She learned how to cope with the end of the phone
Dad went away to his place in the sky
Mum said son he was a real good guy
Mama
refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
Good morning, America
How are you?
Say don't you know me? I'm your native son
I'm
Here they stand brothers them all
All the sons divided they'd fall
Here await the birth of the son
The seventh, the heavenly, the chosen one
refrain
This train has got the disappearing railroad blues
Good morning, America
How are you?
Say don't you know me? I'm your native son
I'm
Here they stand brothers them all
All the sons divided they'd fall
Here await the birth of the son
The seventh, the heavenly, the chosen one
bad blood, her son is a bad blood
But it happens in the hood when you inherit that bad blood
And once it get bad, it be bad for good
That's bad meaning
'bout
Smokin' up them Goodyears
To know that it ain't lookin' good here for the home crowd
Guess you beat me at my own game, think about a two-lane
As the son of a son of a sailor
I went out on the sea for adventure
Expanding the view of the captain and crew
Like a man just released from
Let's have a real good time, yeah, yeah
Some people don't know what it means
To have a real, real good time
Say it son, see I remember long time
bad blood, her son is a bad blood
But it happens in the hood when you inherit that bad blood
And once it get bad, it be bad for good
That's bad meaning
the U.S. Male gets mad, he's gonna do you in.
If you know what's good for yourself, son,
You better find you somebody else, son;
Don't tamper with
the U.S. Male gets mad, he's gonna do you in.
If you know what's good for yourself, son,
You better find you somebody else, son;
Don't tamper with
your native son
I'm the train they call the city of New Orleans
And I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done
Dealin' card games with
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