I used to wear dress blues, I used to get my cues from the dudes in
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D.C. with the wing tip shoes.
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My boss said it was Parris or Prison and the judge said: "son you better
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make a decision."
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I chose the former because I heard it was warmer, April in Parris, hell
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south of the border. They put me together, tougher than leather. Set
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me on your ass because they didn't know better.
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Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
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I hold the fort left, right and center
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the number running hardass punk, flygirl bender. Check the photo
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finish I'm in this to satisfy parole, not posing not playing the role,
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see I got more gumbas than Bobby De Niro and if I was you I'd
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act like Nixon and Spiro. So drink your rock and smoke your pot
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and chill where it's shady. I got more endurance than In-A-Gadda-
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Da-Vida baby.
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Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
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I'm up to no good, with no place to go but down. . .(6x)
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Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
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We're up to no good, with no place to go but down. . .(13x)
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The Grave And The Constant
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| Fun Lovin' Criminals |
