| To all my killers and my hundred dollar billers
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| To emo kids that got too many feelings
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| He held the register open while he counted her change
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| I was next in line which meant I was invisible
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| From where I stood I could see that the till was full
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| He didn’t look the type to play superhero
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| So I stepped forth and paid for my cigarettes
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| Crept out the store’s front door to chase a little breath
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| Bangles in my head, shake the song off
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| Another manic Monday night, its gonna be a long walk
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| A car pulled up, a fixed up Cutlass
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| A woman and a child climbed out and left it running
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| They went inside of the deli, placed an order
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| With the extra dollar fifty bottled water cause the daughter’s picky
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| When they came out mommy gave me a glance
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| That said man can love an angel but he’s got to take the chance
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| Already knew the deal, I lit one up and walked
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| So they got back in they Oldsmobile, belted up, and took off
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| Thug love on the corner by the Walgreens
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| Looking at me like I’m just another square Saltine
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| As I get closer I notice they showing each other sketches
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| Out of their notebooks, reminded me of my old roots
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| I walk past with a nod and a reminisce
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| Swear to god hip hop and comic books was my genesis
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| Respect the life and the fashions of the children
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| It’s the only culture I’ve got, exactly what we’ve been building
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| All of a sudden I’m in front of some man
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| No, he’s a young’un, but he’s got a gun in his hand
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| He looks fifteen, he looks frantic, no, he looks afraid
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| Immediately apprehensive 'til I heard him say
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| «Do you want this? |
| It’s not mine, I promise
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| I found it on my block in between a couple garages
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| Didn’t want to leave it for a child to stumble over
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| I don’t even know how to hold it»
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| It was a thirty eight, the poor man’s machete
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| Held it in my hand, thinking damn man it’s heavier than expected
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| Wedged it behind my belt buckle
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| Knowing that it’s evil, even thought that I could smell trouble
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| The extra strength felt weak
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| But over there on the corner saw what I needed
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| And proceeded to cross the street
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| Put the heat in the mail box to lose it
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| Figured that the post office knows what’s best to do with it
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| Mosey down the road, thinking about the old
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| I used to roam this zone through two feet of snow
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| Right here, this used to be a record shop
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| I’ve gotten love, I’ve gotten drunk, I’ve gotten beat up in that parking lot
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| I’ve had my Lake Street pride for 3 decades
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| These alleyways, and these streetlights have seen my best days
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| Before I was a germ learning how to misbehave
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| All the way to the grave, south side is my resting place
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| Took a right on Lyndale I’m getting near
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| But then the road became empty and the people disappeared
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| The clouds ran away, opened up the sky
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| And one by one I watched every constellation die
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| And there I was frozen, standing in my backyard
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| Face to face, eye to eye, staring at the last star
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| I should’ve known, walked all the way home
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| To find that she wasn’t here, I was still all alone
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| No matter where I am, no matter what I do
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| They can leave me for dead they can take away my true
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| Through the lies and the sins that ride the wind that blew
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| As sure as the life in the garden that you grew
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| No matter where I am, no matter what I do
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| If only I had known what you already knew
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| From the heaven I’ve had to the hell I been through
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| I’m always coming back home to you
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| I’m always coming back home to you |