Lyrics:
down one way outta town
Into our yellow brick road and she said, "Let's go"
Somewhere over the radio, way out past the county line
There's a place
sampling of soul food
Off the old school plates
When I met up with my niggas from the 718
One the Jungle Bro, the other Questers from Queens
Yet I
Big Bang Chris
This the intro for no excuses
Starr county the land of the trill
Puro pinche 956 cuhhh
What you know bout being trill huh
What you
down
Common Sense is in your town
I said come on, y'all, get live, get down
Common Sense is in your town
I stagger in the gatherin'
Possessed by
what's up
niggaz, my
nigga they came back with some of that old school original west coast shit
nigga that
got all of y'all in this dig in the first place
(Bob Dylan)
Old Reilly stole a stallion
But they caught him and they brought him back
And they laid him down on the jailhouse ground
With an iron
need your hoes
Worried about me? You ain't even got clothes some of this shit to get old
Miss the men that's up the road down by one think I need D-Rose
a achin' old heart disease
Do it now, you gon' do it? Tell me all about it
The blues, is a low-down achin' heart disease
Like consumption, killing me by
a achin' old heart disease
Do it now, you gon' do it? Tell me all about it
The blues, is a low-down achin' heart disease
Like consumption, killing me by
a achin' old heart disease
Do it now, you gon' do it? Tell me all about it
The blues, is a low-down achin' heart disease
Like consumption, killing me by
quite
Bob and Mae come up from
Some little town way down by
Lake Texoma, where he coaches football
They were two-A champions for two years running
quite
Bob and Mae come up from
Some little town way down by
Lake Texoma, where he coaches football
They were two-A champions for two years running
I left that place years ago
As they pulled the old ways down
But when I wake in a cold sweat sleep
That old town haunts me now
use to have above the dresser
Half the shit I wrote down I did it, its old now got
New goals, plus my money on Manute Bol
Funny how my old highs is
to having violent psychotic
Quick devour polish it, politics
By the way I'm higher than the Eiffel Tower tip
I like writin'
But I will stick this pencil
of the country
Now we come back for holidays and funerals
So much has changed but Wayne County's still the same
Driving down 191
There's an old memory
It was Labour day weekend, I was seventeen,
I bought a coke and some gasoline,
and I drove out to the county fair.
When I saw her for the first time,
down
I can take you there
And as soon as you step in that high school gym
You can point to the spot sat old man Tim
Came to every game from net to rim
home first I guess and then Bob and then Tommy and then Dan
By then dad's hair was turning white and I sort of had to be mama's little man
But you
home first I guess and then Bob and then Tommy and then Dan
By then dad's hair was turning white and I sort of had to be mama's little man
But you
daddy left the proof on her cheek
And I was only eight years old that summer
And I always seemed to be in the way
So I took myself down to the fair in
raided the dope spot, eight year old kid got shot
'Cause they mistook his BB gun for a Glock
And I ain't forgot about the homie Lano
He got killed by
A wise old soul once told us all
That there absolutely is no place like home
That doesn't really apply to this situation
But I thought it was
slowing down
(slowing down)
Well you take the interstate off the 95
And I'm still dodging county lines
Oh now you're gone, this place don't make a sound
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