Horrorshow - Old Soles lyrics
[Horrorshow - Old Soles lyrics]
I was just a young kid
Standing in the front row
Watching my all my heroes and studying
Their kicks with the ticks
Thinking "I gotta get me some of those"
So I suppose, I shoulda seen it coming
That I'd be going pro
For prose over percussion
Snapping at their heels
Tryna fill in their shoes
Spilling out my soul
All over the rhythm and blues
On the track I'm like the
Little engine that could
Took it all around the world from
My neck of the woods
Following in foot steps where
The greats once stood
Be back to run another lap, touch wood
See I went from being a shy
Kid who was lacking confidence
Uh
To kicking raps on half
The planet's continents
I'll take it as a compliment they
Hate it with a passion
I just keep going in like
It's going out of fashion
You can tell that I'm a old sole
Check my feet I got worn out sneakers
And when I'm rolling down the street
Hear that old soul
Pumping out my speakers
I want that Nina, Aretha, Anita and Marvin
Break of dawn til way late in the arvening
They try coming around to turn it down
I say "what!?" I mean beg your pardon
I hit em like "ooh!"
Ooh, I'm too much
I like that old soul better
Than their new stuff
Don't make em like they used to
Nah they used up
And me I want that good stuff
That give ya goose bumps
Put the pep in your step and
The proof in the pudding
Had big shoes to fill but now I got a foot in
Big fish to fry, but now I got a hook in
Waving at the mirror like
"hey good lookin'"
I'll be an old sole til I'm coming of age
And though I'm never gonna be
One of the greats
I'll be tying up my laces and loose ends
And winning and losing until I'm
Just running in place
Cos there will come a time
Looking back on my youth
When it's my turn to hang up my boots
And there'll be some newcomers who
Are tryna walk a mile
Going in like it's it going out of style
Cos
You already know that I'm a old sole
Check my feet I got worn out sneakers
And when I'm rolling down the street
Hear that old soul
Pumping out my speakers
I want that Nina, Aretha, Anita and Marvin
Break of dawn til way late in the arvening
So if they try coming around to turn it down
I say what, I mean beg your pardon?
Look I shouldn't have to tell
You I'm a old sole
Check my feet I got worn out sneakers
And when I'm rolling down the street
Hear that old soul
Pumping out my speakers
I want that Watson, that Wilson, that Wonder
That Withers
Send a chill up your spine
And give you shivers
They try coming around to turn it down
I say "what!?" I mean beg your pardon