Lyrics:
My father's father's on the front porch rockin'
A friend drops by, two old men talkin'
Rememberin' so many other summer days
Grandma's in
to you
And they ask you for a dime
Before you lead 'em down that other line
Well, give 'em my number
Give 'em my number
And tell 'em I'm waitin' by
denial, I'm bangin' niggas for slot time
Hurry up, duke, I'm next on line
And what the fuck is you lookin' at?
By the way young blood, hit me off with
denial, I'm bangin' niggas for slot time
Hurry up, duke, I'm next on line
And what the fuck is you lookin' at?
By the way young blood, hit me off with
close and
Breaking all the rules
Doesn't everything get covered by those first love's blues
Something about the past was quite amusing
You can
to you
And they ask you for a dime
Before you lead 'em down that other line
Well, give 'em my number
Give 'em my number
And tell 'em I'm waitin' by
Title: The Hay Is In The Barn
Words & Music by Darrell Nash
2016 Darrell B. Nash
I grew up in the country, with its big blue sky
When I think
sad and blue and
Look anything like you give 'em my number
Give 'em my number
Tell 'em I'm waitin' by the phone
Give 'em my number
Tell 'em I hate
and pray for luck
Do the dash, and spray for whatever reason
Gains-r-us
But at random, scenes erupt
Live leaked, things abruptly just end
Blues corrupted by
or leave it, or send it out to the blue
Because I'm always sweet on you
On you, On you
hope I didn't catch you by surprise
I got a lesson learner fact or fiction swoop through your demise
Open eyes and givin' clear vision the windows broken
drop
in the now, i'm bangin niggaz for slide time
hurry up duke i'm next, show em mine
and what the fuck is you looking at?
by the way young blood, hit
the rain
Rememberin yo face
Feelings just fade
I been replaced
New guy new you
Memories keepin me blue
Regret just brings me to you
Things in my head just
in the evenin'
When the blue moon's on the rise
cnd I'll praise you on the crm of Gold
Where the waves blow horns ashore
cnd the ancient eagle's wings
the revolution's on
Elijah Muhammad said, that many of us are soon to rise
Blue sky high-rises open up your eyelids
And realize, you're a gift kid by finger usin
old for this gonna fold from this
People starvin' and I get gold for this
You all chalk me up as some whiney fuck
Who's stressed by success like my
this, gonna fold from this
People starvin’ and I get gold for this?
You all chalk me up as some whiney fuck
Who’s stressed by success like my life sucks?
the top line by line I won't choke
Yes I walk the walk talk the talk now you gotta cope
45 ACP 223 Glock 19 50 cal on the team 12 gauge whatchu need
Got
Smoking this gas got me in a zone, making these hits right off my phone
Back in the lab one more time then I'm gone
Yeah, I'm just tryna show you
Blues
Before there was Cab Calloway
Before the whips the ships
And all the tragedy
Before we were stripped of Knowledge
Of our cultural anatomy
You could
and it's beatin' like Pro-Tools (flock, flock)
Play with my bread, I'ma toast you
Bustin' these plays and rememberin' socials
Soap Gang, flockin' Adidas
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