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greaseball - rock fights lyrics
[verse 1]
long days and hot nights that made me
champ of the ghetto with rock fights and razor blades tucked
behind my t–th
on my street
punks jump up to get beat by the drum of the devil i could hear
it’s something in the air
and mama said be careful over there
didn’t help we carried on without a care
now that precious little girl’s got extensions in her hair
long nights and short days that broke me
seen a couple homies that graduated to dope fiends
some are broke now, some have no dreams
i’m just tryin’ to pull ’em all through the smoke screen
oh lord that it’s tough being troubled
growing colder and ugly and rugged
growing mold on the rust of the cupboards
think i’m truly alone and there’s none you can trust in this world
[verse 2]
just take me home where the women don’t lie
and the word doesn’t fall from the sky
i’m the type of guy with alternative convictions
take away the nicotine addiction
part of just a limited edition
choking on the air of the city
that i care for but really
isn’t there for me is she?
nah but that’s okay i still love her
banging on the pots and the pans in the cupboard
making the soundtrack to youth but little did i know
that later i’d provide it with a flow
boy i tell ya, it’s tough bein’ a heathen
when growing up you never had a reason
and now you have a right
but no one ever taught you how to fight and you’re haunted
by the ghosts in the middle of the night
power lines dissipate in the shadows
we came for the jewels but we stayed for the battle
[verse 3]
street lights ignite this urban romance
they’ll teach you how to hurt before they teach you how to slow dance
diggin’ in your arm for a vain
sleep under the bridge find shelter from the rain
pain never made me stronger as the nights get shorter
and the days get longer i’m awake now
breaking out the mold they gave us
judged by your parents’ money not the way they raised us
o golly
i’m tired of the stereotypes, i got my boombox
that’s the stereo’s type out the parables
life well you’ll find out it’s terrible
mary magdalena turned to dirty magazines and magnums
for every single retch that ever had one
i call it home that’s the place you wander back from
and although they took it some people never had none
i guess i’m lucky though
some people never even see it coming so i suppose
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