There were times we had it all I can't explain it away, it doesn't make any sense To know what it's like, I guess you gotta go through it I guess you gotta go through it, I guess you gotta go through it It doesn't matter, baby Loving you's a dirty job

Yeah we all, yeah we all got a reason to drink 'Cause somebody somewhere's gettin' married today And somebody's home team, they just won state And some old boy's girl just left him If that's you, raise your hand, I got your next one Some of y'all just

I'm gonna rock you Rockabye don't bother cry Rockabye baby, don't you cry No one's ever gonna hurt you, love I'm gonna give you all of my love So, rockabye baby, rockabye Somebody's got you Angels surround you, just dry your eye You're gonna grow and

Somebody gotta die If I go, you gotta go Let the gunshots blow Nobody gotta know That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid I'm sittin' in the crib dreamin' about Leer jets and coupes The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop Oops! I'm

I can get up and face the day Just fine all by myself Go out and take on the world And get it done like nobody else Ohh but I don't do lonely well Baby since you've been gone I leave the TV on Gotta hear somebody's voice I just need some kind of noise

And it's your face I'm looking for on every street There's gotta be a record of you someplace You gotta be on somebody's books The lowdown, a picture of your face Your injured looks The sacred and profane The pleasure and the pain Somewhere your

I'm gonna rock you Rockabye don't bother cry No one's ever gonna hurt you, love I'm gonna give you all of my love Rockabye baby, don't you cry Somebody's got you She tells him "ooh love" Nobody matters like you (stay up there, stay up there) She tells

And it's your face I'm looking for on every street There's gotta be a record of you someplace You gotta be on somebody's books The lowdown, a picture of your face Your injured looks The sacred and profane The pleasure and the pain Somewhere your

And it's your face, I'm looking for On every street There's gotta be a record of you some place You gotta be on somebodys books The lowdown, a picture of your face Your injured looks The sacred and profane The pleasure and the pain Somewhere your

There were times we had it all It doesn't make any sense To know what it's like I guess you gotta go through it It doesn't matter baby But somebody's gotta do it You're never gonna see it There were times that we'd lay in bed and listen To the pounding,