Track-T said:Or this one.....
Now from his pocket quick he flashes,
The crayon on the wall he slashes,
Deep upon the advertising,
A single worded poem comprised
Of four letters.
And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding,
The poem across the tracks rebounding,
Shadowed by the exit light,
His legs take their ascending flight,
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.
Track-T said:Easy one....
With my new york brim and my gold tooth displayed,
Nobody give me trouble cause they know I got it made.
Track-T said:Good,Told ya they were easy......
Now try this...
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
You can still barrelhouse, baby, on the riverside.
Track-T said:Not that easy....try again![]()
Track-T said:Yep.robert johnson...
sold his soul to the devil at the cross road in exchange to play music...
Track-T said:Easy one....
With my new york brim and my gold tooth displayed,
Nobody give me trouble cause they know I got it made.