Do I Miss My Friends?

Back in those days, back in my end We would brodown, every weekend I miss those times, I miss those skins I had to ask, do I miss my friends? On the forefeit towns, where they misbehave Where they skip the bills and they radio slave I'm a cutthroat boy, you're an empty grave We can still be friends, when I get off stage Rap pack, Sammy Davis, Rap Pages, Betty Davis Slab tray, off the meat rack Beat fact checkers need to take a fucking break If you know what I mean, you know what I mean My current girl is a stewardess, but she ain't fly She's well grounded, still astounded to see me try To play around with the boundaries, beat's hotter than a foundry Less beef than a pantry, don't call me Tom like Landry Call me Al like Simon with the words that I'm rhyming With the peculiar timing, or friends by proximity I have friends who spend in loud numbers I have friends who depend on cloud cover I have friends who don't know my name My favorite friend, she believes in change When I tell her about the core of a man All she says is "I'm a woman" And then I say My friends have dreams, now guess why we're friends Common bonds come along like Common songs With an offbeat delivery and awkward obscenity Audra is here, we walk by the river stream And wonder about the life and death of chivalry I'm bumping Tusk, I have a really good memory And to the jerk that said words don't hurt, talk to me for a change I'll treat you like Pac in a range My ex-girlfriend talks to me real strange Cause she knows being close would make her hate me forever Got a hoodie that's clever, draped in bone leather When was it last we hung out together? It was a scene like put me on the rack Or rack me with guilt or rack up some kills Or crack up some crills so you can look good for your friends I'm done shaking hands, I'm onto pounds and waves Because I don't have sex on the very first date You're trying to fuck but I know people like you Who spend a whole night saying what they might do And I'm a doer, not a sayer, shaker and a mover With the kind of strange game that hits your brain like a tumor Two more awkward encounters with ex-one nighters And I'm done shooting off my mouth like gunfighters I run writers and walk printers Crowded email, I officially block senders Asking "Do you remember? Early December? We hung out together, I tried to find you on Friendster" Well, I haven't used that since Limewire, tearaways and junior high alienation So I apologize for this confirmation of the touring musician stereotype I'm saying I was drunk and probably a bit bored To be honest