Credits & Info
- File Info
- 1.9 MB
- 2 min 6 sec
- 3.97 / 5.00
- You must give credit to the artist.
- You may not use this work for commercial purposes unless you make specific arrangements with the artist.
- Share Alike:
- If you alter, transform, or build upon this image, you may distribute the resulting creation only under a license identical to this one.
- Rated 3.97 / 5 stars
- Plays & Downloads:
- 16,351 Plays | 598 Downloads
- Share Links:
- Hip Hop - Modern
Just another story. I spent a decent time trying to mix/master this song. It's still not that good, but atleast I'm trying now! Kudos to some amazing music by YunVeroz: Serial (remove the space) http://www.newgrounds.com /audio/listen/195819
Edit: Fooled around with some volumes. The background vocals were aggravating me too... Hope they're slightly better now!
EditEdit: Word, top 'o the charts! Thanks fellas (it's NG, I know you're all fellas)! My comp crashed and I've lost the original recording of this so I can't make changes, but I do appreciate all feedback and will use it on future productions. Make sure you check out YunVeroz if you like this, he's got loads of quality stuff, it's mindboggling.
My man Jones came from a broken home,
At the age of fifteen he was living all alone,
Had to eat to survive so he stole all the time,
From the young and the old and the deaf and the blind,
And the cops didn't find it funny,
Poor dummy gotta make your own money,
If you wanna stop running,
But he kept on gunnin,
He started havin fun,
And pretty soon he was locked in cell 21.
Didn't stay long cause he was only a kid,
But Jones hadn't learnt his lesson from the time that he did,
Tried to fit in with the cool kids, messin up his school grades,
Only thing he wanted was respect like the movies,
But cinemas not the best parental figure,
And his mind needed guidance from somebody who had been there,
Try to teach him morals stead of screamin with the chorus of,
Not our problem, someone deal with him for us,
Poor us, we got problems of our own.
So, alone Mr Jones roamed homes,
Slept beneath the stars on the street,
Where the cars all beep,
Cause they all got somewhere to go,
Jones, hated laughs cause he wasn't included,
Wouldn't talk shit cause he couldn't refute it,
Learned to blend in, tried to take as he please,
Wasn't ever gonna beg for money down on his knees,
Cause he wasn't a bum.
But then again a bum he would become,
Jones never finished school and he slept in a slum,
Now you're probably expecting some kind of a break,
Jones'll find a mistake in his mis-woven fate,
But no, he never found his only golden ticket,
Never came around pity for a lonely sick kid,
In fact it's almost like he never existed,
He died under a bridge and no one missed him.
And the cars still beeped, and the people still shook,
Took two weeks to find him cause nobody looked,
Jones was buried in a cemetery, barely remembered,
In a world of people just as dead as him.