Lyrics:
seventeen. At twenty-one, it was a long time gone.
And now here you are. You're locked in your own excuse.
The circle's getting smaller every day.
You're
off of drug talk
(Told you they don't make niggas like the Butcher no more man)
Yeah, uh
In interviews talkin' Plug talk
Got my name off of drug
the misery of poverty
No man alive has ever witnessed struggles I survived
Prayin' hard for better days, promise to hold on
Me and my dogs ain't have
the girls passed by and he winked his eye;
He said, "I'm July Jones,
I'm the man for you, I'm six foot two,
All muscle, meat and bones."
Chorus:
Great
I put my best foot forward
I keep my family by my side
I sleep with one eye open
I'm for real when I say I got an army
Stand down if you think
kid somehow
He learned to wrangle horses,
And know 'em all by name
And get them in by daybreak, if he could
To follow the chuckwagon
And always
without a gun
He'll lead us on to victory
And sixty cents a ton
Come all ye hardy miners and
Help us sing this song
On the twenty-first day of April
We
By Russ Ballard
©1985 Russell Ballard, Ltd.
Published in the USA and Canada by Virgin Music, Inc
Can you hear that sound
It's all around you and me
And got scared when you heard that I was coming with hits
Now don't even trip, be a man instead
Give thanks I'm alive when I should be dead
Uh, I'm in
twenty below
Ask me why, man, I just don't
Know, know-know-know, know-know-know
I'm as cold as the cold wind blows
Blow-blow-blows, blow-blow-blows
Sitting down on a country fence post
Sitting down watchin’ trucks roll by
Sitting down under the light of day now
You know that I won’t tell you no
Six foot six stood on the ground weighed two hundred and thirty five pounds
But I saw that giant of a man brought down to his knees by love
He was
to me
"I'm twenty three and I need someone
You look like someone who could play with me
Stay with me, all day with me"
Cause I'm in no man's land
twenty-five Puerto Ricans, Manhattan Mohicans
And Jewish-Italian Pawnbrokers
Lead their theatrical lives in their rooms in the wings
While outside in
Verse
They say there's gold under the stone
They say there's fire in the ice
They say that love is crazy it's true
But what can a poor man do
When
in hand, 'cause man
I don't wanna live no more
Sometimes I hear death knockin' at my front door
I'm livin' every day like a hustle, another drug
How can you be alive when you are dead
With these chains of hypocrisy
The shame of my ancestry
Forever stained by blood in which you tread.
If I
three times
Pay you a nickel a day for every inch you sink it to
Go on and do what you say you can do
With a steel-nosed hammer on a four foot switch
you know how it go
Just another day in the hood (la-la-la-la, lalalalalala)
Yo, yo
Aiyo, what a night, New York City, heard it goin' down
Friday
like
Where Novocaine stabs in your arteries
Pardon me but my city go mad
Via Compton California
Corners with coroners and karma on em
Colours
a little too soon
That day was just like any other day
No work, and no pay
I knew that paradise was some other place
And I'd get there another day
I
you must lie in that county jail
Where I can't get to you by visit or mail
So squirm, with discomfort, wiggle and cough
Six days of madness, you
to say this fear of drowning
Fear no death by water
Father walks in at the foot of the bed
Six of you want to see you safe
Just one time you'll meet
There was a man in the jungle
Trying to make ends meet
Found himself one day with an axe in his hand
When a voice said "Buddy can you spare that
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