playing keno on a wednesday
pumpin' quarters in the jukebox
sniffin' thirty millie beans
between the swearing and the staring
sharon a cokey-eyed spooky chick
bitch got middle-aged hips and a black fetish
starin' at her groupie ass
she spoke of a kindergartener
telling me that he'll get into harvard
i been a part of it to benefit demented hardship
the streets that i grew on ruined by the scent of garbage
what am i doin' here? i can't escape this place
i'm trapped staring in the mirror
i don't really need the things i do not have
everybody knows i rose and it's not bad
but now i'm back in a bar room on dot ave
back in the same place again
where they pack burners in the whore's fest
i store four fours up in my drawers
burnt bridges of festering thoughts
in the honor of excellence
i live next to hell where heaven ends
i murder stories from purgatory and prisoners
dead cultures are twisted in this frigid religiousness
wooden shovels to dig a ditch
they treat me like a negro who's getting rich
i take a swig 'n swish whiskey
so maybe i'ma product of this ignorance
my church is full of serpents
i jerk the curtains closed
back in the same place again
back in the same place again