lirik lagu malkovich music - homecoming
left my house keys somewhere on the map
slipped in the back
bags still packed
where everybody at?
zig~zags and a big bag of shwag
i got the popov
and it’s about to pop off
on the porch, long shorts, loving the sun
got the boombox bumping that bump
got me thinking on them days when we were just running to run
searching for something, and now something’s begun
and to you, to the crew, what’s new on the view
we connect like two and two, my peeps through and through
i got stories, i got souvenirs
and man, yall ain’t been through in years
looking at you is just like looking through a mirror
fat hats and slacks, i could never take that back
to the life we chose
the life that chose us
no regrets, no ifs, ands, and no buts
yeah, yeah, make a joyous noise like this
give it up for some real life sh~t
to the couch kids with sofabed dreams
dirty jeans and still thinking over their means
and it seems money ain’t in our genes
so we steam through throwaway schemes
with a gleam like you don’t know what they seen
nothing happened but adaption
good or bad, action, it’s gotta happen
cuz i got something in me and it’s gotta get out
so either you’re running with me or you gotta step out
sometimes i can sit and smoke and drink and drown it out
but tonight the voice is shouting and i can’t turn it down
if i hurt you in the process, i’m apologizing now
this ain’t sh~t i talk about out loud
no one to blame, how can i complain
just jumped off the train and home looks the same
eses and runaways at the station
and seen one cat i recognized from graduation
and everywhere i go, it’s the same conversation
how you been, how you doing, what’s the latest
same sh~t as always, trying to make it
chasing that place in the hills, and millions
but this year i’m still here and it appears you’re here again
seen my boy behind the counter on some eight bucks an hour
forty of every week for a small pile of powder
seen my other dog, still on that heron
mad holes in his arms, smiling like nothing’s wrong
at the pad, staring at high ceilings and pipe dreaming
trying to find reasons why we’re in these tight squeezes
some blame it on friends, some blame it on no ends
and some stand up on their feet and start hustling for theirs
named all the streets eyes closed on my ride home
same spots i stayed posted at since eighth grade
different kids, same lost look on they face
and all them girls who you knew would have kids had kids
and everybody who you thought would do a bid did
and everything i say or do is like deja vu
man i’ve done it all before
everything at this stage, i’ve run it through the floor
then i think about that kid who got k!lled in number four
i think about daoud, and how his own pops popped him
or rafi, ending his problems with a shotgun
so nowadays when somebody asks me “how’s things?”
i say “more of the same, man, can’t complain”
to the life we chose
the life that chose us
it’s all good, man, knock on wood
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