I know this guy
this guy lives on my street.
He has eight cars and
a kid named Mercedes Benz.
His wife is a beauty, I met her
at a Drag Queen competition the other day
when I was searching my way
to a poetry jam club.
Me, I don't do poems or
hardly even read them but the jam sounded
nice
I know this guy
this guy lives on my street.
A block away from my house but
still on the street.
I know this guy
the man's a disguise.
A new suit everyday but
the briefcase is the same.
The man wears a hair coz
hat is so tasteless, he says.
Works for amnesty and
speaks for the whales.
I know this guy
the man hanged himself on Sunday when
the rest of the family were at churh while
he complained a real headache.
Well, he wasn't any scout so
he couldn't tie the knot so
he failed to die. A lot
of people got worried about his state of mind so
he stepped out of
the hospital and went straight to
a pub that night and told his friends
how he was just joking and never
in the danger of choking.
He slapped the bartender's back and
bursted out
"I ain't no scout, I know
nothing about knots."
Well the city had a good laugh and
I was there too, sitting in
the corner table with two
my best friends.
I took a sip from
my beer and said
I know this guy, this guy lives on my street.
"Well, what's the big news?" asked
my other friend
"the whole city's just one street"
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