Gone Jackals Born Bad
That's the way it begins - you try to behave, yeah, you try to fit in. But when you rise and stand you find a lock-step march - no room for jazz. Born bad- with a slight-o-hand I go from jam to jam with a crash, boom, bam. Born bad - I dodge a sucker punch and drop a bomb, like Liston, on an animal hunch. I've been down. Yeah, I've spent some time downtown. I've covered sacred ground, soft and slow and round. I gave up. Yeah, I learned to give it up, thinkin' that's the final cut. But it turns out I was wrong. Born bad - that's the way it began, stuffed a young pink lung down a rank glue bag. Born bad - this is where it all lands for a bull headed, corner hangin' problem child man. I grew hard. Over time my scars toughed up. When gettin' even just wasn't enough, I had to choke my conscience off. I've come far. Yeah, I had to travel far. Peel through layers sick and raw just to taste and touch once more. Born bad - like a synchro-mesh shift that's stuck in third just smokes and burns. Born bad - with a cig-hangin' lip. A talk-back baby on a star-crossed ship.
