| I know, here’s an idea, maybe we can put together a little tour
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| for the core forces of Low Pressure’s finest.
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| Combined with Goodnight Musics the crew would set out from Halifax,
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| earning props and greenbacks and wearing party hats.
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| Gather 4 crazy rappers in a van plus moves,
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| and do twenty dates in the states mostly for free booze,
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| got stiffed at every phase, got sniffed at every border,
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| lost battle after battle with karma and fate
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| made to order struck with bad luck and nothing went right
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| except for the rapping part we ripped it night after night,
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| Filling up clubs filling up on road food, road beer,
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| road rash ass smelling like sulphur fast food draft beer
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| 1 hotel room 5 dudes piled in here
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| and moves and T be chain smoking,
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| cracked out broken, can’t wait to hit the road and,
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| then come home when it ends, and become legends to our friends.
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| bumping devin the dude across Canadian plains,
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| Me Noah T, Kaleb, B, and Paul hauling ass to Maine,
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| Let’s just say the border guards in Calais don’t like black folks,
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| they made up warrants and lied this shit’d gone past jokes
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| no laughing matter had to say goodbye to Caleb,
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| give the finger to the bailiff cm’on let’s be gone
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| So we grab T and be back on the highway,
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| they can’t stop the prophets they can’t stop our posse.
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| i’ve had a hard fall, i kinda fell hard. |
| I think i learned a little.
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| But who knows you know?
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| I mean i’m leaning towards leaving this lifestyle of the road, but when it goes
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| right it goes so right
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| Wrong motto, tour sponsor must have been Murphy’s law.
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| The farther we looked ahead the worst we saw.
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| Driving at night through Indiana by headlight,
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| What’s that in the road asked Noah, then shit just exploded.
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| I noticed the huge deer on the median immediately,
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| It tried to run away but couldn’t quite flee my vehicle
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| Bang Flying deer, Dang, is everybody ok?
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| What in the hell was that comes the question from the back
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| crank shaft gear shift down just killed a deer near town
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| and so we get towed, get back in the van that mowed down the doe
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| that chose that night to freeze and frozen in the road
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| and we hit it dead on, then and there the creature’s life gone
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| I pulled onto the shoulder, radiator smoking holding
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| head in hand and can’t stop shaking,
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| I was fucking driving when it happened, hadn’t taken
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| two steps out the dented van and then it hit me.
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| I declined insurance when I got the rented auto, that means this dented
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| rent-a-wreck just became a big problem
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| Out of pocket, out of purse thinking worse case scenario,
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| We’re fucking stuck in angola, indiana.
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| This can’t happen man we had to get going, see the show must go on and we had
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| to go on showing off.
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| So it’s off to the dodge spot to get a hot not purple green van it looked like
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| just the minivan to make the scene in.
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| But we can’t take it out of state so they replaced it with a car,
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| now there’s 5 dudes crammed into a buick. |
| Far from home, 18 dates left,
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| and then I get a call on my phone, hey josh, all them Cali dates is gone.
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| No Project Blowed, no Fillmore, No California here I come. |
| My jaw dropped I’m
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| awestruck dumb.
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| Wonder what’ll take to flip fate to make this right,
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| But there was nothing we could do so we just drank all night.
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| i’ve had a hard fall, i kinda fell hard. |
| I think i learned a little.
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| But who knows you know?
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| I mean i’m leaning towards leaving this lifestyle on the road, but when it goes
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| right it goes so right
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| I’mma be alright. |
| I’mma be on my feet again
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| and meanwhile I’ll freestyle but there’s really nothing sweeter than
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| meeting your darkside and seeing sparks fly, by the end we oozed booze
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| and everyone had gone crazy
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| just to deal with the range of the strange, things kept on going,
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| noone ever thinking long range.
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| I know sometime’s it sucked and nobody got fucked,
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| at least not with ladies, but at least no road babies.
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| Never punched out any lights, although sometimes I thought we shoulda,
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| stuck some punk rocker in a locker we didn’t but we coulda
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| so many suckers sucking suffering suckatash fucking suckers you stuck up
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| suckdick fucksticks.
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| buck65/sixtoo/scratch bastard greymatter drunc caleb gordo and everybody else
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| that matters
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| this damn crew who’ve been doing it forever, you couldn’t handle this tour,
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| not now not ever.
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| Greenbacks and Party Hats 1993/ Bolts, Moves, Tachichi, kunga 219 and me. |