Michael Franti And Spearhead

Why O Why
I say my prayers every morning just like orange juiceI crack the crinkles out my body till I'm feeling looseI strap my sneakers on my feet like they was combat bootsthey fit my feet like Cinderella when I'm shooting hoopsWhy oh why do memories keep chasing me sometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and fleesometimes I want to blow my brains to put my life at easebut I ain't clocking out I gotta see the seven seasplease seven's a very lucky number for methat was the age when I discovered how good balling could beup every morning with the birdies doing little drillsgo to my left go to my right developing mad skills how could a love for this game bring so much sadnessI played with brothas with so much badnessbut now they gone I sing a song pop a threefrom the top of the key in they memory(Chorus)Why oh Why do memories be chasing mesometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and fleeeven in seasons when it's another color sportI still be memorizing lines out on the basketball court singingWhy oh Why do memories be chasing mesometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and fleeeven in seasons when it's another color sportI be remembering my partners on the basketball courtSongtexteDo you remember runnin' the court in Septemberme and my homies be down for whoeverwould come along and try to send us to the showersfrom the game that we'd been dominating' there for hoursall day to be more specific east to westfrom Atlantic to Pacific fools would come roundto get down and try to take our crownbut we would hold our ground and we would never back downold timers new timers would get in line thereand take a seat there and try to preparebut oh no! there was no chance when we was in the zonewe was alone at the top we had hops we got propsand when we needed to we busted chopswipe the court with your game like we was using mopswhat ever happened to the super hoopers in the parkI reminisce while shootin' solitary after dark (Chorus)Brother see came fresh from out of townand he had handles and like McDonald's he could clown yadribbling baby bounces between drinking forty ouncesknock ya on your heels and do circles like he was Curly Nealbut oh no, the liquor got quicker to his head and he said "I think I musta placed some stupid bets"he hit me up for some cashthere was a car crash a splash and then the brother made a mad dashRob oh Rob his whole life was like a roller coasterbut on the court he looked like a Dr. J posterflying high with an Afro blowing in the windwiping Windex, index finger rolls off the glassthen swish through the net jump a Corvette with a triple pirouettebut off the court he had a few temptations copulations no moderations by 24 he had 3 pregnationslast check crack intoxicationsso many other brothers gone from this dimensionand none of those who got hurt receive a pensiongive a Bup! Bup! to those locked up in detentionmemories too many dimension and we say, one more time... one more time(Chorus) Aus Songtexte Mania