Lyrics:
myself, great Brooks
for some reasons some people they wanna be me
but I want to be somebody else
I can't even figure out what I'm supposed to be doin'
right
Man, I been hustling all night (Hustling all night)
Tryna get my paper right (Get my paper right)
So, my lady called my phone (My lady called my
consolation
And that's the thought that I'll be going back someday
And ev'ry night down upon my knees
I pray the Lord to please take me
Back to that little old
(we have got to figure out how to get right back to love street)
I need directions (we need direction, woah)
To that street called love (to that
isn’t sage enough. You must consult someone even more sager: my fahjah, or at least the man I wish was my fahjah.
UNCLE WALTER:
Dine Sore flared his
ain't no joke
Down with the sound called BDP
After livin' on the streets alone
Some years went by, I signed myself into a group home
I used to watch
I sing of the swift and mysterious style
Of Billy the kid and of Oscar the wild
Upstarts and outlaws and lords of the night
With destinies dark
know we are alone
Each day I cheat on a chickenhead I figure on
Bust it - man I go chill, me called a gal you wanna kill
She have faith, she have di
over all the time I had to worry
Leaving all the changes far from far behind
We relieve the tension only to find out the master's name
Down
Alright
(Ooh-ooh-ooh)
I got a buddy livin' out in Jacksonville
In love with a woman with looks to kill
He called me outta the blue just
a dirty overcoat
At the foot of the pillar of the road
Propped inside was an old man
Whom time could not erode
The night was snapped by sirens
Those
a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty
version of his old whip.
During the flight, he could see other beasts carrying other voyagers, all protected by the same structures. Out of the solar
y'all niggas
Put a nigga in the bars, let a nigga rot kind of like your old job, nigga
House sittin' on some land, but it's out where no one even really
the moulding sand
He wore his trade like a company brand
He was one of the cyclops' smoky band
Yes, that was my old man
My old man wasn't really old
It's
all over again. That's how I was offered my first record deal when I was 16 years old.
My grand scheme of being emancipated, went out the window. When
we brought my baby home the first night
Cursed like sailors, burst out the crib raging
In my new car bought from entertainment
Champagne and gaining
night bars
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story at them all night piers
There ain't no room around
night bars
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story at them all night piers
There ain't no room around
what I can sorting out yeah
She is balling out, bro
You do not be in my shoe, Bro
This street cat
Ah, man!
Ah they are jarring fam
I don't know if I want
All
these lures had been placed there by Shadowcast,
hoping to avoid confrontation between this dominant
man and his own villainous forces. Eriel
It started on a Lord's Day morn
That's when their love was born
On a walk out behind the old man's barn
In the haze of a summer day
Sam has lived
I put the name Microphones on the tapes I would make late at night after work at the record store. I was already by then a couple years deep into
polyester suits"
Well, one day, up the avenue
There was a man surrounded by the Fort Greene crew
He said, "Hear ye! Hear ye! Come one, come all!
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