Park Bench

[Verse 1 :Madchild] Red line, razor blade gang, I'm an outlaw Crack jaw, you won't see it coming hit you south paw Torch the village cause they're really very hokey Killin' all the villagers and spit like karaoke Used to treat me like a trophy Then things got low key, I was dopey Now nobody even know me And just because I'm doing good again don't mean you know me Trust me, I am not the old me And I cannot remember one thing that you told me Relationship is stale, it is moldy I'm fresh now a classic, like great golden oldies Not a Mack like Goldie Never wack, I attack so boldly Shit is crazy, life is like a blur I could be a psycho but it's not what I prefer New king, cinderella no glass slipper No black leather act for the wack stripper Madchild lyrically I'm an ass kicker Not a ass kisser, I'm a practicer That’s where a lot differ and I’m a lot different Without a pot to piss in but I am not tripping Cause see the clock and the clock's ticking Badman, I'm a rude boy, shot lickin' I mean no, I made no deal with them bowcat Had to leave awhile and stop doing opiates Stomp on a white boy, smash on a halfbreed I don't give a fuck when I rap, I am baffling [Verse 2 :Madchild] Yo dogs are good, most people suck I'll probably grow up to be an old evil fuck Sitting on a park bench, cane and a cardigan Thinkin' of the days back when Shane he was partyin' And soon I'll be an artifact Seemed like yesterday I was picking up a party pack (ha) Now I'm worried about a heart-attack Still child-like, AMAX and a starter cap You can't cheat father time Just be thankful I'm happy, I've had harder times Things that I like, they are mad hard to find I'm a snob, do my job, I'm a master of rhymes I'm a bastard to some, to the rest shit is good Main fear? Not to do the best that I could Not give it all I got, but still could do better Decade and a half, group still we're together Still birds of a feather Still dope beats, ill words put together Hip-hop saved me twice, that's a true fact I still love checkin' for fucking tough records Used to have a pistol in my hand Now I want blue skies, seeing crystal in the sand I'm getting old, call me mister I'm the man Still cold, still official as the plan motherfucker