The Grave and the Constant

I used to wear dress blues,
I used to get my cues from the dudes in
D.C. with the wing tip shoes.
My boss said it was
Parris or
Prison and the judge said: 'son you better make a decision.'
I chose the former because
I heard it was warmer,
April in Parris, hell south of the border.
They put me together, tougher than leather.
Set me on your ass because they didnt know better.
Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
I hold the fort left, right and center the number running hardass punk, flygirl bender.
Check the photo finish
Im in this to satisfy parole, not posing not playing the role, see
I got more gumbas than
Bobby De Niro and if
I was you
Id act like
Nixon and
Spiro. So drink your rock and smoke your pot and chill where its shady.
I got more endurance than
In-A-Gadda-
Da-Vida baby.
Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
Im up to no good , with no place to go but down. . .(6x)
Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on, getting it on, getting it on. (4x)
Were up to no good, with no place to go but down. . .(13x)