Sittin on a rusty park bench baby Not much else to do Smoke cigarettes and rink my
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Mickeys Fine malt liquor brew As I start drinkin and I start thinkin That death is on my
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side If my
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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
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brothers In the gutter with my
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paper bag in hand Yeah the streets are cold but at least Theres soul and thats all I need
Youll take away my
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peace of mind Youll leave me there to rot and die But look again, my
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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