The Thirteens (Black) Maya Angelou
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "The Thirteens (Black)" by Maya Angelou. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
Your Momma took to shouting
Your Poppa's gone to war,
Your sister's in the streets
Your brother's in the bar.
The thirteens. Right On.
Your cousin's taking smack
Your Uncle’s in the joint,
Your buddy's in the gutter
Shooting for his point
The thirteens. Right on.
And you, you make me sorry
You out here by yourself,
I'd call you something dirty,
But there just ain't nothing left,
cept
The thirteens. Right On.
Your Poppa's gone to war,
Your sister's in the streets
Your brother's in the bar.
The thirteens. Right On.
Your cousin's taking smack
Your Uncle’s in the joint,
Your buddy's in the gutter
Shooting for his point
The thirteens. Right on.
And you, you make me sorry
You out here by yourself,
I'd call you something dirty,
But there just ain't nothing left,
cept
The thirteens. Right On.
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