He said, "Hot metal cups turn to rusty tin cans
And life is what happens while you busy makin plans
And desperate youth are starvin for a million dollar mixtape
Mouths full of dust, hands diggin through a milk crate
Bullet hole soul plates rise up the pop charts
They sing about it all from broken hearts to pussy farts
New fish to fry on the corner every evenin
Steady paper chasin, ain't no time for grievin."
Sick fit, needle kit, I passed the man another beer
He wiped away a tear as the piano died slowly
Washed down the aftertaste of fifty years on planet earth
Tryin to live up to the dream of bein holy
"Lord why can't I be buried underneath a tree
With no more trouble for my worried mind?
Every single day I get the blues, and even when it's beautiful
Still I think that I could leave it all behind."
I said, "Eyes on the prize. Heads up, brother. Walk straight
Keep 'em in your cross hares. Never ever hesitate
Fools try and rise against the God and I enlighten them
Bring me dark days and gloomy thoughts and I will brighten them
Waste not, want not sonny. Save your energy
I