Don't hang out with the boys, mother said
|
And I yards at night past the store
|
Street native years replaced
|
A bad girl fell in love with her son
|
This is our handwriting on the corners of tra-ta-ta
|
And on a dark night in the yards, bla-ta-ta
|
And what I saw, I will remember forever
|
Simple guys are pouring kindness
|
Playing the rosary, I remember the godfather said
|
Life is short, we wander around the taverns
|
And I won't give my truth to anyone
|
I'll be a bastard, I won't sell for anything
|
Don't hang out with the boys, mother said
|
And I yards at night, past the store
|
Street native years replaced
|
A bad girl fell in love with her son
|
Few boys, we are few boys
|
Few of those cars, but those that give you
|
We are still small, smart beyond our years
|
I'll be a bastard, damn it, mom, I'm not a rastaman
|
Life is short, listen, don't smoke boy
|
What pictures, don't be a fool, madam
|
All that I owe, I will give you for everything
|
Few boys, we are few boys
|
Don't hang out with the boys, mother said
|
And I yards at night, past the store
|
Street native years replaced
|
A bad girl fell in love with her son
|
Don't hang out with the boys, mother said
|
And I yards at night, past the store
|
Street native years replaced
|
A bad girl fell in love with her son |