Swollen Members - Park Bench lyrics

Red line, razor blade gang, I'm an outlaw
Crack jaw
You won't see it coming hit you south paw
Torch the village cause they're
Really very hokey
Killin' all the villagers and
Spit like karaoke
Used to treat me like a trophy
Then things got low key, I was dopey
Now nobody even know me
And just because I'm doing good again
Don't mean you know me
Trust me, I am not the old me
And I cannot remember one thing
That you told me
Relationship is stale, it is moldy
I'm fresh now a classic
Like great golden oldies
Not a Mack like Goldie
Never wack, I attack so boldly
Shit is crazy, life is like a blur
I could be a psycho but
It's not what I prefer
New king, cinderella no glass slipper
No black leather act for the wack stripper
Madchild lyrically I'm an ass kicker
Not a ass kisser, I'm a practicer
That’s where a lot differ and
I’m a lot different without a pot to piss in
But I am not tripping
Cause see the clock and the clock's ticking
Badman, I'm a rude boy, shot lickin'
I mean no, I made no deal with them bowcat
Had to leave awhile and stop doing opiates
Stomp on a white boy, smash on a halfbreed
I don't give a fuck when I rap, I am baffling

Yo dogs are good, most people suck
I'll probably grow up to be an old evil fuck
Sitting on a park bench, cane and a cardigan
Thinkin' of the days back when
Shane he was partyin'
And soon I'll be an artifact
Seemed like yesterday I was picking
Up a party pack (ha)
Now I'm worried about a heart-attack
Still child-like, AMAX and a starter cap
You can't cheat father time
Just be thankful I'm happy
I've had harder times
Things that I like, they are mad hard to find
I'm a snob, do my job, I'm a master of rhymes
I'm a bastard to some
To the rest shit is good
Main fear? Not to do the best that I could
Not give it all I got
But still could do better
Decade and a half, group still we're together
Still birds of a feather
Still dope beats, ill words put together
Hip-hop saved me twice, that's a true fact
I still love checkin' for
Fucking tough records
Used to have a pistol in my hand
Now I want blue skies
Seeing crystal in the sand
I'm getting old, call me mister I'm the man
Still cold
Still official as the plan motherfucker