STREET CONTROLLER (feat. The Chaplain)
Being dressed to kill
Is being dressed to die
When he's clean and pressed
And his teeth all shine
When the humble price of a human life
Couldn't pay the rent on his suit and tie
He's a handsome man
He patrols the slum
He taxes the people at decent sums
He lives with his mother and she keeps a gun
In the cookie jar to protect her son
They only play records from back in the day
When the young people spoke in a measured way
And even the heels were all self-effacing
And only used slugs of the finest casing
When men were as sharp as a Pedro Knight
And didn't get dirty in petty fights
But would all shake hands and would walk a pace
Just to win the strip of a woman's lace
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
She looks through the blinds at the garden gate
Where there's always a bride she can shoo away
And the neighbors know what she does with a broom
When their daughters hide from a gossipping moon
The elders see that she's showing mercy
She bursts through the door in her rollers, cursing
They've all witnessed her finest hour
When the stick she bore had more firepower
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Is being dressed to die
When he's clean and pressed
And his teeth all shine
When the humble price of a human life
Couldn't pay the rent on his suit and tie
He's a handsome man
He patrols the slum
He taxes the people at decent sums
He lives with his mother and she keeps a gun
In the cookie jar to protect her son
They only play records from back in the day
When the young people spoke in a measured way
And even the heels were all self-effacing
And only used slugs of the finest casing
When men were as sharp as a Pedro Knight
And didn't get dirty in petty fights
But would all shake hands and would walk a pace
Just to win the strip of a woman's lace
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
She looks through the blinds at the garden gate
Where there's always a bride she can shoo away
And the neighbors know what she does with a broom
When their daughters hide from a gossipping moon
The elders see that she's showing mercy
She bursts through the door in her rollers, cursing
They've all witnessed her finest hour
When the stick she bore had more firepower
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Always a bomb in the baby stroller
Where children limp from a heavy holster
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Street controller
Street controller
Something you learn as you start to get older
You'd never expect the real street controller
Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Jiménez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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