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His hooves in dirt, poundAnd knead up groundHe cannot remain boundWhen the trumpets soundLet's review some recent factsI make decent cash, I'm a minor starAnd we can't last if she don't drive a hybrid carI scribble vapid raps on your flyer backsThe word is I purchased a refurbished Mac G4Pull up to critical mass in a gas-guzzling FordJust to ask you when next your rock outfit performsBefore you tell me the facts, I'm down the road yelling backPlease post it on the Whole Foods bulletin boardI'd earn a lick of respect and slum hard for sureBut I threw out my lumbar picking up chequesI'm so numb, Lord yes, despite how I'm blessedI'm destined to end up a slum lord depressedCome by poorly dressed, your address on the firstHum something under my breath that half resembles some wordsAnd like a bird in a suit cut for a brutish bearBack out of there bowing like a Jew in prayerI'll never shirk this first world curseA steady hurt and a sturdy purseLetras de cancionesA small dark bard, I'll give an inch to startThen leave you home dreaming of the whole nine yardsLeave you home dreaming, believing that you'd seen meLoose skin breathing like a cathedral at eveningScreaming like a demon in the Garden of EdenMissing what parts that a stork in its beak bringsBut even what an evil man thinks is really pink and on his insidesDoesn't mean you shouldn't pull his card outSo what if a man blinks in Morse code while he sings If he sings his heart out?Everybody's gotta get paidI'd say "far out, no way"Frankly, I'd be amazedBut a patriot would save the dayMake the hitch, help C.I.AWhat's bad, what's goodA complicated man is misunderstoodEven to himselfAcutely unaware what's in a shallow breath of airAnd long exhale of something elseI'll never shirk this first world curseA steady hurt and a sturdy purseTwo sips, instant drip, Sanka mudNew corpus publicist, thanks ya budHis hundred bucks worth of wordy blogger thugsCome forth forthwith to four seasons of floodTo morbidly orbit your toilet like hornets abuzzForming above like buzzards in loveWhen you first wake up, spitting sick from the gutAnd shitting black blood at sixThen you wonder why I'm high up, sitting, yupThe blundering braggartFrom a covered wagon spitting under the vagrants in guttersWhat, does it make me evil? Am I a feeble deranged fuck?Cause Jesus would and I would not drive the needle exchange truck?Well if I'm out of luck, I'm still pitching notes through this throatPissing fears and hopes through the ears of folks listeningNo matter what, batter up enough of this nonsenseYou can gather up the content of the catcher's cup and suckDo you kneel and squint your eyes and cup your hands against the windowJust to see who rides, to get a glimpse inside the limo?Have some self-respect and exercise some tactWhile I supply the info that you lackOne must pay the frat fee to enjoy the fat-free snacksStrippers, roofies, and six-packs, and groupies with big breastsSending out mass texts asking who's nextTo get his lance waxed in the wickedest sex actsStep back from the stretch, mack, and mind the gapWith all due respect sir, there's a limited capYou'll need a ticket to kick it in the backOf this rented, tinted-out black CadillacBut I can tell by your polo, slacks, Sebagos and blank stareYou're good for the total package and game to be back thereBut who am I to judge a man's heart by his yacht wear?And it scares me to death, yes, that I'm starting to not careI'll never shirk this first world curseA steady hurt and a sturdy purseGood and evil's often neither strength or flawBut sod in the seed of what you areA filthy silt stashed in a white silk sashOr a doula dove smashed in an airplane crashYou'll never shirk this first world curseA steady hurt and a sturdy purseA steady hurt and a sturdy purse From Letras Mania