back when they were young they lived in another time where the grided streets were as far as their world stretched and with every passing night mommy
for the boys [chorus] well he's headed to the Mad Dog where he's looking for a skinhead girl he'll take what he can it's the story of a man and the life
praise that they would sing or is there more to be made for the glory or the fame or for the friends that you made hanging around for the last of it all a dead man
serving two to four behind bars and when he thinks back to the day there's a crooked smile played across his face as he says to himself out loud no one
they said you'll grow up someday soon enough the days gonna come when you put in your nine to five just like the next man they said your friends will
'll never relate to me I don't care for the finer things and I sure don't need them the smug upper class looking to write off one more tax they're going
number fifty-nine [chorus] were one one in the same one in the same as you one in the same the same as you were one one in the same one in the same as
well they all gave him six months at most he'd be right back right back at home [chorus] but his names in the marquis lights tonight Hollywood the kid with a one
a boat that would never float three months working for what's right they'd sleep in the galley in the night it was all for one and one for all and at
standing on the corner stuck in the avenues waiting for a ride as the fog rolls in he's got his leather jacket zipped up tight (it's Friday night and
Well they locked him up seventeen years for a crime it all began when he did what he had to get by all alone all he had were his friends and the streets
well I'm always on the wrong streets -- another dead end story the cars never they never stop for me -- another dead end story biding my time my time to strike -- another dead end story
I'm Always On The Wrong Streets Another Dead End Story The Cars Never They Never Stop For Me Another Dead End Story Biding My Time My Time To Strike Another Dead End Story
made you kiss the nina? What if a brick was only just a misdemeanor? What if Manhattan was hit by Hurricane Katrina? What if a black man was the one controlling
the blood-stream. Another Christ dies, jacked up by the state. Another glorious advance for civilisation. One small step for man. One giant step for
at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one
Multiple stab wounds sticin' thru in the ol' school Cutlass Supreme Thirty-five cents to my name and that's fo' a blunt man The way thangs goin' today I might as well be dead
got a whole army of Kiiers Me no worry, I got the clapper son End of the first verse, chapter one Word Shit is real in the field Thug love story [G.