Lord have mercy! Feel so good I think I'm gonna work
I was talking to the judge, just before we left the countryside Piece of paper in his hand, tryin' to find the way Tryin' to rip it out, well now I've got it all around Tore the pages up before they brought the curtain down
I remember the day, the "Drumshanbo Hustle" When you couldn't hear a bird, it was making not a sound They were trying to muscle in, an easy way to bring the money in You were puking up your guts When you looked at the standard contract you just signed
Prostitution on the run, 'cepting when it was soliciting Tryin' to drain them all dry, got hung up by the rope Magazines and books, clearly undefinable Wiped the clean slate, and pulled the rug from underneath her feet
I remember the day, the "Drumshanbo Hustle" When you couldn't hear no birds, 'cos they were making not a sound They were trying to muscle in, the recording and the publishing You were puking up your guts When you read the standard contract you just signed, alright!
New York hooker by the neck, reads your Tarot cards and astronomy Hey, I want to get your stars but don't know your sign It was taking time to get the message through to it But will hand down shake you one, and a letter five "T" rhyme No sign poker
Oh, remember the day, the 'Drumshanbo Hustle' Couldn't hear a bird, Lord, you couldn't hear no sound They were trying to muscle in On the gigs and the recording and the publishing You were puking up your guts When you read the standard contract you just signed You were puking up your guts When you read the standard contract that you signed You were puking up your guts When you read the standard contract you just signedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.