Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Message, artist - Grandmaster Flash. Date of issue: 31.12.1999
Song language: English
The Message |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |
| My brothers doin' bad, stole my mothers TV |
| Says, she watches to much, is just not healthy |
| "All my children" in the daytime, "Dallas" at night |
| Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight |
| The bill collectors, they ring my phone |
| And scare my wife when I'm not home |
| Got a bum education, double-digit inflation |
| Can't take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station |
| Neon king kong standin' on my back |
| Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac |
| A midrange migraine, cancered membrane |
| Sometimes I think I'm going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane |
| Don't push me, 'cause I'm close to the edge |
| I'm trying not to lose my head |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |
| A child is born, with no state of mind |
| Blind to the ways of mankind |
| God is smiling on you, but he's frowning too |
| Because only God knows what you go through |
| You'll grow in the ghetto livin' second-rate |
| And your eyes will sing a song called deep hate |
| The places you play and where you stay |
| Looks like one great big alleyway |
| You'll admire all the number-book takers |
| Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money-makers |
| Drivin' big cars, spendin' twenties and tens |
| And you'll wanna grow up to be just like them, huh |
| Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers |
| Pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers |
| You say I'm cool, huh, I'm no fool |
| But then you wind up droppin' outta high school |
| Now you're unemployed, all null and void |
| Walkin' round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd |
| Turned stick-up kid, but look what you done did |
| Got sent up for a eight-year bid |
| Now your manhood is took and you're a Maytag |
| Spend the next two years as a undercover fag |
| Bein' used and abused to serve like hell |
| Til one day, you was found hung dead in the cell |
| But now your eyes sing the sad, sad song |
| Of how you lived so fast and died so young so |
| Don't push me, 'cause I'm close to the edge |
| I'm trying not to lose my head |
| Ha-ha-ha-ha |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |
| It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
| How I keep from going under |