Dot Ave - Slaine, Rite Hook

Sittin' in the bar, playing Keno on a Wednesday

Pumpin' quarters in the jukebox, MJ

Rockin' Billie Jean, Jilly nodding off, silly

Sniffin' thirty millie beans, wet-brain Willy

Flippin' out, what’s he really mean?

I can’t hear him, he’s incoherent mmmmmm

Between the swearing and the staring, Sharon a cokey-eyed spooky chick

Kinda crackhead-ish

Bitch got middle-aged hips and a black fetish

Tapping a Newpie ash

I caught a buzz with her, starin' at her groupie ass

Doin' drugs with her, she spoke of a kindergartener

Sipping whiskey, telling me that he’ll get into Harvard

I been a part of it to benefit demented hardship

The streets that I grew on ruined by the scent of garbage

What am I doin' here?

I can’t escape this place

I’m trapped staring in the mirror, standing face-to-face

I don’t really need the things I do not have

Where I’m from, when they shoot at you, you shot back

Everybody knows I rose and it’s not bad

But now I’m back in a bar room on Dot Ave

Oh!

Here I am

Back in the same place again

Do you wanna know

Where I been?

Or where I’m gonna go?

And when I find my way

Tell me where to follow

Dorchester, where they pack burners in the whore’s fest

More or less, I store four fours up in my drawers

Filled with pills, yayo, bullets, warm cans of Coors

Yesterday’s wars, burnt bridges of festering thoughts

In the honor of excellence

Commit seven sins, I live next to hell where heaven ends

I murder stories from purgatory and prisoners

Dead cultures are twisted in this frigid religiousness

Scriptures in the hood, wooden shovels to dig a ditch

Figaro, they treat me like a negro who’s getting rich

I take a swig 'n swish whiskey, I’m a bit intense

So maybe I’ma product of this ignorance

It sticks with me, my church is full of serpents

I jerk the curtains closed, this time I’m certain

The police is lurking, I’m out of work again

My best friend just OD’d, I sold some percs to him