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LA RE LA
Living down here
RE LA
they throw me down and count me
RE LA
I’m making this up
RE LA
it keeps my feathers clean
MI RE LA
And the black boys they kick my ass and tell me
MI MI7 LA
That the women their ruby lips are dry
(Chorus)
MI LA
I get angry I get sad
MI LA
And I lose that sweetness that I used to have
MI
And I boil my strings
LA MI
To bring them back to gold
LA MI
Bring them back to gold
MI7 LA
Bring them back to gold
(second verse)
Sleeping in here, they give me plenty to eat
Don’t make trouble, make something with concrete
So I fill my pipes with it to break them black boys heads
Lord I wish I had a gun, I wish I had a gun
Chorus
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