Eclair

You ain't ever seen a drop top
Sitting on 14" chrome McLeans
Them Reds had 'em pop up
Laying down low till he turned that key

Had a homie with a drop shop
He cut the '65 down to the street
Now we out to the hot spot
Turning on three legs with them brand new feet

You ain't got a long way to go
To be living under roses like those etched on the back window

I was only fourteen
Homies had them old bent hangers on the stove
Everybody sipping Old E
Everybody getting burnt by their anger to the bone

Ain't nobody got a sure thing
Till they brand their skin to prove they loyal
And now they got a sure thing
They ain't ever had a king to prove they royal, royal

Give up to give in we lived in the same
System, decisions ain't living the same
Within us we live up to different things
The gift of the pain, the gift of the pain

Give up to give in we lived in the same
System, decisions ain't living the same
Within us we live up to different things
The gift of the pain, the gift of the pain

You ain't got a long way to go
To be living under roses like those etched on the back window

I became a poet
Took it all by sight and turned it into something
I became a poet
But I ain't the type that you should ever fuck with

I was in my note book
While the homie did time for crimes committed
These are the roads we took
Had to shoot our shots, ain't none of us missed it

Give up to give in we lived in the same
System, decisions ain't living the same
Within us we live up to different things
You lit up a place where the children were playing

Give up to give in we lived in the same
System, decisions ain't living the same
Within us we live up to different things
You lit up a place where the children were playing

You ain't got a long way to go
To be living under roses like those etched on the back window

In the back window
Better back up slow
Cus it won't be long till you're in that web with a black widow

With a black widow
Better back up slow
Cus it won't be long till you're in that web with a black widow
With a black widow

I've been living out in Paris
I got a little boy and he just turned three
My words have carried me
To buying him eclairs at a boulangerie

He's pointing at a chariot
Some American muscle out there in the street
Got nothing to compare it with
Cus we're just too damn far from the heat

Give up to give in ain't living the same
System, decisions, I give him a name
Within us we live up to similar things
The gift of the pain, the gift of the pain

Give up to give in ain't living the same
System, decisions, I give him a name
Within us we live up to similar things
The gift of the pain, the gift of the pain

You ain't got a long way to go
To be living under roses like those etched on the back window

You ain't ever seen a drop top
Sitting on 14" chrome McLeans
Them Reds had 'em pop up
Laying down low till he turned that key



Credits
Writer(s): Jason Christopher Medeiros, Sylvain Yves Marie Michel Richard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link