The hair on his face is dirty,
dreadlocked and full of mane
He asked the man for what
Get a job, you fucking slobs,
God forbid you ever had to
Said you really might know
what it's like to sing the blues
It ain't you really mind know what it's like
It ain't you really mind know what
Said, don't worry about a thing,
the man you've been dreaming of
he say he won't date or return her call
he'll find that man cutting off his balls
And then she asks for the clinic
and they call her a sinner
and they call her a whore
But God forbid you ever had to
Cause then you really might know
what it's like to have to choose
Then you really might know
And then you really might
And then you really might
I've a loser win and a sad man grin,
I've heard an honest man lie
I've seen the good side of bad
and everything in between
and smoked the finest green
I struck the baddest dimes
at least a couple of times
before I broke their heart
You know where it ends, yo,
it usually depends on where you start
I knew this kid named Max,
he used to get fat stacks
out on the corner with drugs
He liked to hang out late,
he liked to get shit -faced
He pulled out his chrome 45,
talked some shit and wound up dead
And now his wife and his kids
are caught in the midst of all of this pain
You know it comes that way,
at least that's what they say
God forbid you ever had to wake up
you really might know what it's like
Yeah, then you really might
Yeah, then you really might
Yeah, then you really might
