[Intro]
Ladies and gentleman, my name is Macklemore. This is my music, and it feels so damn good right about now. Check it, I got a story, yo, it goes a little something like
[Verse 1]
When I was seventeen I was staying in NYC
And my homie told me where I could get a fake ID
"Ayo, son, you better get that shit when you in NY" (okay)
So I hopped on the subway and I gave it a try
To my pleasant surprise the ID looked fine
5'9", blues eyes, born in nineteen-seventy-nine (just right)
Nervous as hell, I went to the store with my homie
Came out and yelled "Dawg, they sold me a 40"
Yeah, you know that I was the man
Buying liquid contraband with a fake ass hologram
No more looking for bums, standing in the rain
Stranded on Broadway and giving 'em all my change
For the rest of the summer man I was on fades
Seventeen, had it made, getting drunk everyday
Ayy, I got treated a whole new way
Because of a piece of plastic that proved I was of age
[Interlude]
You know what I'm saying, all of a sudden you get this little piece of plastic and you're in the club. Seventeen like bah! Check it out, it's like this, yo
[Verse 2]
Now for the next three years I had so much fun
Getting drunk in hip-hop clubs where you had to be twenty-one
Then one day I was walking and I saw a sign
That said KRS-One twenty-one up and live
That's hella tight
Ayo I heard he always ripped it
So I hopped up in my Civic and went out to buy a ticket
When I got up the the door the bouncer checking ID's
Looks at mine and he's like "Nah, we don't take these"
I tried to reach and grab my shit back
But the mother fucker was tougher than Shaq, on crack
I should've punched him, but I would have reached his knee cap
And that probably wouldn't have hurt him very much
He kept laughing and smilin', he called me a dumb shit
And if I would've let myself I would have cried in public
Oh no, I'm like "Give it back, bro!"
But no, my ID was jacked by the Caucasian Deebo
Ladies and gentleman, my name is Macklemore. This is my music, and it feels so damn good right about now. Check it, I got a story, yo, it goes a little something like
[Verse 1]
When I was seventeen I was staying in NYC
And my homie told me where I could get a fake ID
"Ayo, son, you better get that shit when you in NY" (okay)
So I hopped on the subway and I gave it a try
To my pleasant surprise the ID looked fine
5'9", blues eyes, born in nineteen-seventy-nine (just right)
Nervous as hell, I went to the store with my homie
Came out and yelled "Dawg, they sold me a 40"
Yeah, you know that I was the man
Buying liquid contraband with a fake ass hologram
No more looking for bums, standing in the rain
Stranded on Broadway and giving 'em all my change
For the rest of the summer man I was on fades
Seventeen, had it made, getting drunk everyday
Ayy, I got treated a whole new way
Because of a piece of plastic that proved I was of age
[Interlude]
You know what I'm saying, all of a sudden you get this little piece of plastic and you're in the club. Seventeen like bah! Check it out, it's like this, yo
[Verse 2]
Now for the next three years I had so much fun
Getting drunk in hip-hop clubs where you had to be twenty-one
Then one day I was walking and I saw a sign
That said KRS-One twenty-one up and live
That's hella tight
Ayo I heard he always ripped it
So I hopped up in my Civic and went out to buy a ticket
When I got up the the door the bouncer checking ID's
Looks at mine and he's like "Nah, we don't take these"
I tried to reach and grab my shit back
But the mother fucker was tougher than Shaq, on crack
I should've punched him, but I would have reached his knee cap
And that probably wouldn't have hurt him very much
He kept laughing and smilin', he called me a dumb shit
And if I would've let myself I would have cried in public
Oh no, I'm like "Give it back, bro!"
But no, my ID was jacked by the Caucasian Deebo
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!