new york son - benn weston lyrics
when i say i’m doing don’t you know it ain’t like that?
its your chance, step in line or fall back
plenty of time for glory days to come back
unwilling to step up and attack
i ain’t asking for no hand outs
looking for love not begging for clout
million ole ways i can better myself
while you hang ’round like plants in a drought
both hands on the wheel driving to a dirt nap
both hand on the glock like a lines cast
both hands in the mud trying to grab that
hands on the clock spinning round and round fast
everyone wanna see what i done
where i’m from
what i overcome
just for fun
i got a question, when life ends what was your intention
you know i ain’t a nerd scrubbing half baked bars
like fight club waiting to pop off the pages
gonna wash the town cause i’m dangerous
with no thoughts except for what comes subconscious
leave the world saying my name, robert paulson
split my head to expose the crimson
word play is just an illusion
hypnotized by the television
my names been shot out your mouth
northern drawl not from the south
gates of h*ll guarded by the hounds
i told them sit, instead they bowed
its hard to take the pill if you don’t want it
the industry mixed appeal and you swallowed it
ill be morphin’ this and carve my name
neolithic i’ll start the new stone age
granite set in a matrix of lime
stand forever a test of time
red or blue you best be ready
i woke up the eyes that are not heavy
i ain’t been sleepin’ for months not a minute
i’m dracula biting throats to drink it
wooden stake is how i am treated
stabbed in the chest yet undefeated
watch the way that i use the craft
arguing about the tact
sorry you don’t understand
out classed empty hand
i’m about to catch
all of those packed
around the simple fact
it didn’t go as they had planned
from barefeet walking up in the creek
to pinching pennies for something to eat
earned a one way lane on my street
burning tires bald on my concrete
i ripped the thunder, fed my hunger
i dropped the hammer and shot my future
what’s the matter, ignore the banter
i would rather become the master
when you invent the ship you invent the shipwreck
playing roulette in water
titanic the cannon needed to pierce through the skin on my neck
this holy water bless the path that i’ve taken
i sailed the world just to tame the kraken
getting ready for words that flow from my tongue
under my own thumb is the place that i love
italian blood like mozart writing symphonies
polish heart beating subliminally
irish whiskey fills the stomach and
consumes my words violently leaving no air to breathe
my pitbull’s turned to a bird dog, woof woof
clearin’ the sky with the buck shot
catch all those flying higher than i
taking them down with that, chick chick, bye
backwoods raised in a one horse town
i’m a new york son, not a city boy
genesee river flowing up northward
carrying dreams i had to the afterworld
it takes two to tango and three to dance
but i’m one man cutting these steps in half
many plans with no time for a set back
bucks on the wall are missing the skull cap
ill tattoo this story a half inch deep
cause the skin i got is thick and clean
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