I come from South of the border,
just South of Portland with a little West bend
not from the hills of the academic and domestic
Wake up at 1P, M in the morning
ash under my nails smelling errl in my nose hairs
"Hey do you think I could bum a smoke, bro?"
Sure my man I got a spare so don't fret, but I'm not a bro, though"
"For real?"
Shit man, I run into you every day do I really have to do this every day?
Life like the industrial companies lining my streets
press and press and I press and I do it all again
but every step might not go forward, I keep
sayin I don't have the reserve to go on like this,
this shit's burnin me before progress,
can I just make a little bit?
"No," says me, "but maybe you can next time."
Can I get out of bed at least?
"You know the rules," says me, "get to the car and the engine's running."
But man there's a lot of broken glass down there,
painful, diamond shards trailing in with the past down there.
Is this fair?
Okay, don't answer that.
Not raised by a meth-head, thank god, but neglected,
but kept safe in a home offering protection
Mother's broke and mi papi es a ghost
left to my lonesome devilish devices
look it's a dick dyke with vicious collection
of debt and death-draw bridged in prevention by vices
smoke till I choke, kid, smoke while I toast
"I became someone so why couldn't you, too?"
Shit, kid, I just want to see the weekend,
Just want to see tomorrow,
Just want to wake up sometime