Вершы:
Son House Walkin Blues

walkin' blues I said I got up this morning, I was feeling ?round for my shoes I said you know about that now, I got the walkin' blues. The blues aint

son that he could not save. The sun turned cold over President Street and the town of Brooklyn mourned They said a mass in the old church near the house

look old Son House in the eyes I know where you carry such a fragile load But I've got yours and you've got mine It's a rhythm and blues alibi You can

knife And during the struggle he accidentally gets his Adam's apple sliced No And while this is goin' on His son just woke up and he just walks in She

see me walkin' You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar Hollerin' at him 'cause the son

Housing In other words, bitch, I'm the resident from Homicide Housing Known for drug dealing, stack thousands Four hundred grand in the couches, two hundred grand on the houses

cut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare Heard the wu snare, while my iris cut down the glare Walk a road

is how it should be done, my life Is identical to none, son tried to duplicate but I knew he was fake 'Cuz every time I walked by he turned blue in the

shovel fuck, my daddy built that house and when he got drunk he almost killed that house is this the american dream, or the american scheme? that got me walking