This one is, um
A short rendition
In which, uh, me and a pianist mate of mine
By the name of Prince Paul
I shall not relieve, I mean reveal, my, uh
Identity
So, I, I think we will begin like this
Are you ready, Prince Paul?
Yo
You're f*ckin' us up, man
Yo, swear to God, I'm good, man
You're f*ckin' us up, man
As we begin again
Rude interruption from the audience
Here we go
Oh, Johnny
You got a bullet in your forehead, boy
Don't you understand? You dead
Buried six feet under the concrete
"Ooh, whoa, whoa"
That's the noise he made when he got shot
But Johnny's still dead
Still dead
Thought about his mama
Thought about his father Josephine
But nobody could help the boy when he hit the concrete
"Ooh, whoa, whoa"
The last words said by Johnny
But now he's six feet under and he's dead
Our next song we'll play is called "Jenifa"
And we'll be back in a minute