Dusty in Here Songtext
von The Go‐Betweens

Back in the days when I was a young buck
Stuck like a truck gettin′ shit outta luck
Times was rough and I didn't have a plan
I was barely on the edge of my life as a man

It′s really fucked up when there's dope in the crib
No food in the kitchen for the motherfuckin' kids
That′s why a young nigga learned how to steal, see
Shopliftin′ laid me a whole lotta meals

But I remember days when the cupboard was bare
And life was unfair but who the fuck cares?
I still hear momma, what she used to tell me
That you don't get shit in this life for free

And even if I never ever make it to the mountain top
Fuck it! I fight for my hip-hop
Not everybody can relate to what I been through
Even though some front and they try to pretend to


Know about the life of a kid and the strife
Where he has to live in the shadow of a base pipe
Good goes to bad, bad goes to worse
And pretty soon he′s stealin' from his own momma′s purse

So clean out ya ears and open up your eyes
I reach out to touch but somebody moved the sky
My stomach is growlin', word is born
′Cause all I had for dinner was a can-o-corn

A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
All I had for dinner was a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
Before I went to school, I had a can-o-corn

A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
I tried to get full off a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
That's all the fuck that we had in the kitchen

A few years later, I pledge a legions to the set
I'm growin′ up but I ain′t grown yet
It's funny how the strain in a life filled with pain
Can sometimes leave a bitch stained on the brain


I′m sittin' in the restaurant, guardin′ my food like a eagle
Pickin' up scraps like a seagull
Waitin′ on the people at the next table to leave a tip
So I can put it in my pocket

Phoney easter bunny, Santa Claus and the stork
We was poor as fuck so we ate a lot of pork
And it ain't no motherfuckin' way no how
When it come up, I let you bring me down

So I stick to the boots and I′m down with a mad group
Of gangstas and hoodlums, but you can call ′em 'Scroops′
Give me liberty or give me death
'Cause a man without pride ain′t got shit left

And now that I'm older with kids of my own
I put me in the pot where it used to be a bone
Get′cha self together, word is born
'Cause a man can't live on a can-o-corn