| Here we go
|
| Leave it on the back burner
|
| Take it to the dry town
|
| I got the mean time slippin' down
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| The slide some uptight right wing
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| Political homicide, do what you want
|
| Take what you will, take it in like a
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| Southpaw, flip it on the grill
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| Bourgeoise, protocol
|
| Bottoms up boys this is the last call
|
| Happy hour doesn’t last too long
|
| You know it never does
|
| So I sit here on a bar stool looking at
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| The sky got a buck and a quarter
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| And a bucket full or rye
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| Don’t step out of line you’ll get time
|
| In the brig don’t yield to the mighty
|
| You got your own dirt to dig
|
| My and my flea bag friends we ran
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| To have our own feast of Crispan
|
| Murphy was there with number 22
|
| They were got caught in the middle
|
| Of a coup, you will
|
| Lose me if I don’t lose you
|
| We haven’t chosen
|
| Anyone of you to condemn
|
| So make your decision and chose you
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| Side or let us begin
|
| Steeped in knowledge
|
| I’ll step from the board
|
| Down to the speak easy
|
| With my double-edged sword
|
| You know the deal
|
| You got to spin the wheel
|
| I heard the heavens are full of sevens
|
| But as matter of fact
|
| You know that cat suicide jack
|
| He don’t play like that
|
| Truth is he don’t really play at all |