Locksmith
I. Feel. A. Little. Apprehensive. Talking to
You you. About. My. Life. With. My. Own. Voice
Although. I. Think. People. Will. Relate. And. Understand
Dade County
Miami
1976
A baby boy, livin' in a hotel with his parents
Mommy was a maid there
Don't really know what pops did but
He was trainin' to be a locksmith
We moved up the coast
Back to where the grandparents lived
Perhaps for cash
I didn't think to ask as a kid
And I don't where pops went, but things seemed stable
Even when he left his keys on the table
My single mom
She was able to make it without relationships
Every so often, pops would show up and babysit
It never made me think about his day job a lot
Until the day when my mom's changed the locks
In those days
When he watched me, when I think back, in some ways
Made up of coffee, six packs and gun play
Pornography and projects, step siblings and half relatives
But havin' kids is bad for business
Girlfriends were the rage then
Babies in the playpen
Toddlers were forgotten in front of television stations
It wasn't just one way to say things
Between the two households
I out rode all types of combinations
Breakin' these codes and peekin' through key holes
Finger on the pulse, stethoscopes broke the needle
Put my ear to the ground, you hear the pins drop
Gears in the clock
Turned like my stomach turned like the dial on a padlock
Rhode Island was the backdrop
The world was the oyster
Crack the shell, hand the pearl over to the lawyer
In family court I make judgments
I'm a product of my father's trade and my mother's substance
I. Feel. A. Little. Apprehensive. Talking to
You you. About. My. Life. With. My. Own. Voice
Although. I. Think. People. Will. Relate. And. Understand
That kid weighs twelve pounds WITH my dick in his mouth
You you. About. My. Life. With. My. Own. Voice
Although. I. Think. People. Will. Relate. And. Understand
Dade County
Miami
1976
A baby boy, livin' in a hotel with his parents
Mommy was a maid there
Don't really know what pops did but
He was trainin' to be a locksmith
We moved up the coast
Back to where the grandparents lived
Perhaps for cash
I didn't think to ask as a kid
And I don't where pops went, but things seemed stable
Even when he left his keys on the table
My single mom
She was able to make it without relationships
Every so often, pops would show up and babysit
It never made me think about his day job a lot
Until the day when my mom's changed the locks
In those days
When he watched me, when I think back, in some ways
Made up of coffee, six packs and gun play
Pornography and projects, step siblings and half relatives
But havin' kids is bad for business
Girlfriends were the rage then
Babies in the playpen
Toddlers were forgotten in front of television stations
It wasn't just one way to say things
Between the two households
I out rode all types of combinations
Breakin' these codes and peekin' through key holes
Finger on the pulse, stethoscopes broke the needle
Put my ear to the ground, you hear the pins drop
Gears in the clock
Turned like my stomach turned like the dial on a padlock
Rhode Island was the backdrop
The world was the oyster
Crack the shell, hand the pearl over to the lawyer
In family court I make judgments
I'm a product of my father's trade and my mother's substance
I. Feel. A. Little. Apprehensive. Talking to
You you. About. My. Life. With. My. Own. Voice
Although. I. Think. People. Will. Relate. And. Understand
That kid weighs twelve pounds WITH my dick in his mouth
Credits
Writer(s): Sage Francis, Rich Lester, Romy Hoffman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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