Lyrics:
it really ain't no love for us ghetto kids
For all the dirt that I did
I don't think I'll find where heaven is
I wonder why they won't panic and try
I did, I lived like any street kid
But I was handed 20 books, others were handed 20 year bids
Still they wouldn't sell to your mother or your wife
if you're washed in the blood like I was
The smell of cape jasmine through the window screen
John R. and the Wolfman kept me company
By the light
The sort of veiw that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.
Darby
the Eastside of Long Beach, that's 2-1 Street
See we, live and die by the gun and the knife
And I, high as a kite, corrallin through the night
Ha ha, stackin'
like I care, but I don't really care
Now I live in a new buildin' with amenities
I got a new ceilin' with a chimney
I got a few n- wanna finish me
I
occasionally
Live close by, visit often
That'll work, that'll work for me
Live close by, visit often
Save us both a lot of misery
You fix me
a life
Yea, surrounded by good fortune and wealth
Talk about it
Those of us who live a life
Hey, hey, hey enjoying ourselves
For those of us who got
Oh yeah
Come on
Woo
Huh
I had a friend was a big baseball player
Back in high school
He could throw that speedball by you
Make you look like
Being born here, it's like hitting the lottery
If you're lucky enough, to live in the land of the free
If your in, then I say you guided me in
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When the babysitter treats all the kids so mean?
No tresspassing, will blow your brains out;
Will do it with
the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.
Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks like to be
touch me now
I don't want to live without you
Nothing's gonna change my love for you
You oughta know by now how much I love you
One thing you can be
a black Bimmer
But my dream's to own a fly casino
Like Bugsy Siegel, and do it all legal
And get scooped up by the little homie in the Regal, uh
It
The scene was a small roadside café
The waitress was sweepin' the floor
Two truck drivers drinkin' their coffee
And two okie kids by the door
Don´t mean
I want to sit around my house and watch TV
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
Jackson Jackson was a good kid
He had four
Warrior-ior
Warrior-ior-ior
Warrior-ior
We are the misfits
We are the bad kids
The degenerates
We ain't perfect but that's alright
Love us or hate us
Love, soft as an easy chair
Love, fresh as the morning air
One love that is shared by two
I have found with you
Like a rose under the April
can fall back on
Those of us raised up down home
Where they know you by name and treat you like family
Down home, a man's good word and hand shake
acutely choose to call the old good days?
But we've been scraping by our teeth through lives we didn't mean to lead
And I can barely tell you what I did
don't know me...
It's the simple things in life
Like the kids at home and a loving wife
That you miss the most when you lose control
Everything you love
Willie and Laura Mae Jones were our neighbors a long time back
They lived right down the road from us in a shack, just like our shack
The people
Willie and Laura Mae Jones were our neighbors a long time back
They lived right down the road from us in a shack, just like our shack
The people
corners, play blocks like Gators
With bundles on us, serve trays like waiters
It's the life we chose to hustle
Can't stop it, can't knock it
Half
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