Losers Romp the Road Songtext
von Eric Bibb

Gotcha! Cover, don′t make a move
Let's get something straight, get back in that groove
Don′t flash no badge all in my face
I've got better things to do than to talk about race
Don't lemme hear them sirens wail
But don′t be threatenin′ me with them antique gels
Take the day off, spend some time with your sons
Let 'em meet my kid, so they don′t grow up
Stalkin' the streets with a gun

Build your mirror wider
Put me in your view
Or don′t you know you're shrinkin′?
Losers pull the cool


Doctors, lawyers, merchants, engineers
Brothers and sisters need your help down here
I know you worked real hard, climb right over the color bar
Your services are in demand
But I'm not askin' for your home or your cars
Just a hand, oh, just a hand

Build your mountain higher
Let us share the top
We help with the plan, yeah
Better give us, hand your crown

Hey you, you with the hat
Oh you, too young to be doin′ that
Pick up your head, get straight, little brother
Or you′ll wind up dead
I know, I know it's a bitch
But you won′t find peace with a snow witch
Come on, man, lemme help you get down
We're gonna start from scratch, turn your whole world around

There will come a time
When losers romp the road
And they might own some gold mines
But we′re the mother lode