Junkyard,3 mins, 1 sec
See the boy on the corner,
He's only twelve years old.
Every night he's out there doin' his best,
To get his goodies sold.
Cause he's gotta feed his momma,
Gotta beat off a couple a dads.
They just come around,
When they feel like bangin' in the bag, yea
Aww, that's life,
Where what's bad,
Just seemed to be good.
I love the place,
Am I misunderstood?
Livin' in a junkyard,
Livin' like a couple a thieves.
Well I can't go to my homeboys place,
Cause I got no gasoline.
But if you say you're buyin',
Then I'll have another round.
And if you've got the money honey,
Well I'll drink you down, yea
Got shootings down the freeway,
Shootings down my street.
Fine lookin' lady on the corner says,
"Hey boy, I'll sell you a treat".
Well that's my lovely city,
That's my neighbourhood.
I live like I want to,
Not like I should, yea
Yea, yea, yea
Written by FIDDLER, JOSEPH ANTHONY / , Y
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing, Peermusic Publishing
Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.