Buck 65:
It was a bad car accident back in ‘99
And after all was said and done the blame for it was finally mine
I’m with the master of the massacre beat—Sixtoo was riding in the passenger seat
I was unharmed, even though it seemed impossible
The car was completely totaled and Sixtoo was in the hospital
A lot of my memory from the crash had been blocked out
But I know he had a broken wrist and a couple teeth were knocked out
He lost a lot of blood, he needed reconstructive surgery
They sent him straight to the ICU after emergency
They pumped him with drugs, and had him in fraction[?]
Needless to say for months he was out of action
I visited once in a while but not much
We started to drift apart and almost lost touch
As for excuses, I had a dozen to name
And after he came around he wasn’t the same
The guilt was unbearable, his limp was persistent
I tried to make it up but he remained distant
Doing what I could to make the time we spent rewarding
I suggested we get together and do some new recording
We’d try to make a plan, but it always got cancelled
Put on hold, fold[?], or totally dismantled
Something always happens—you know how it goes
People ask “what’s up with the Sebutones” well now you know
Sixtoo:
Two sides of the same brain grasping at straws
Bitterness the outcome behind closed doors a plot of holding friendship for ransom
Elaborate plan of guilt-riding psychology
Amplified by my drug dependency and no apology
Buck he did his thing; I rode in the metal sling
In retrospect the human body can be the most frail of things
Especially when dropped into a world of hurt from a short spring
Sometimes building up lies is so much more comforting
I washed away the weirdness—I almost forgot my name
Needless to say things might never ever be the same
I watched Buck 65 grow to superstar status
And when I couldn’t even walk it only amplified my madness
I can point fingers longer than anyone, just ask my friends
If I don’t feel that things are cool then why the hell should I pretend
Something always happens man you know how it goes
People ask “what’s up with the Sebutones” now you know
It was a bad car accident back in ‘99
And after all was said and done the blame for it was finally mine
I’m with the master of the massacre beat—Sixtoo was riding in the passenger seat
I was unharmed, even though it seemed impossible
The car was completely totaled and Sixtoo was in the hospital
A lot of my memory from the crash had been blocked out
But I know he had a broken wrist and a couple teeth were knocked out
He lost a lot of blood, he needed reconstructive surgery
They sent him straight to the ICU after emergency
They pumped him with drugs, and had him in fraction[?]
Needless to say for months he was out of action
I visited once in a while but not much
We started to drift apart and almost lost touch
As for excuses, I had a dozen to name
And after he came around he wasn’t the same
The guilt was unbearable, his limp was persistent
I tried to make it up but he remained distant
Doing what I could to make the time we spent rewarding
I suggested we get together and do some new recording
We’d try to make a plan, but it always got cancelled
Put on hold, fold[?], or totally dismantled
Something always happens—you know how it goes
People ask “what’s up with the Sebutones” well now you know
Sixtoo:
Two sides of the same brain grasping at straws
Bitterness the outcome behind closed doors a plot of holding friendship for ransom
Elaborate plan of guilt-riding psychology
Amplified by my drug dependency and no apology
Buck he did his thing; I rode in the metal sling
In retrospect the human body can be the most frail of things
Especially when dropped into a world of hurt from a short spring
Sometimes building up lies is so much more comforting
I washed away the weirdness—I almost forgot my name
Needless to say things might never ever be the same
I watched Buck 65 grow to superstar status
And when I couldn’t even walk it only amplified my madness
I can point fingers longer than anyone, just ask my friends
If I don’t feel that things are cool then why the hell should I pretend
Something always happens man you know how it goes
People ask “what’s up with the Sebutones” now you know
( Sebutones )
www.ChordsAZ.com