Sittin on a rusty park bench baby Not much else to do Smoke cigarettes and rink my Mickeys Fine malt liquor brew As I start drinkin and I start thinkin That death is on my side If my heart stopped beatin, the street kept reekin Thats suicide.... thats right
I grew up in the inner city A dark part of this town Just another innocent backwoods victim Society like to put down You can call me a boozer, or call me a loser It really doesnt matter to me I got a bench for snoozin, some sauce to keep boozin Thats all I neeed
Chorus I keep it comin, sometimes I dont know why Im gonna do it til the day i die
Consider me the duke as I dine in your dumpster Unsanitary engineer Baron of the bench the panhandlin master Well, Im pullin twenty Gs a year I know it aint much but at least Im in touch, yeah With reality And I wouldnt trade no places to be in rat races No siree
Chorus
Yo, Mr. Trump, can I ask you a question You got some spare change for me sucker? Cause Im down and out and there aint no doubt That I am here to stay
Yeah you see me lyin with my brothers In the gutter with my paper bag in hand Yeah the streets are cold but at least Theres soul and thats all I need
Youll take away my peace of mind Youll leave me there to rot and die But look again, my careless friend The world you live is just a lie Its a give and take, the more the fake The more the pain, the more you lose Live your life, dont take no sides Nseize the day and drink your booze
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