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Mired In Mediocrity
Stuck in the mud,
and you don't know why that is
You got mediocre dreams,
you never aspired to be much
All you ever did was only think of yourself,
and now you're wondering how
you got left behind by everyone else
You always were the
worst kind of ne'er do good
Just another woulda, coulda, shoulda,
real bad, bad boy in the 'hood
Last I heard, you were a low-level mule,
carrying lots of contraband on a desert highway
You knew the risks and the unwritten rule:
lose the shipment ... somebody has gotta pay
Now you're stuck in the mud,
braying for somebody to come help you
That's real rich, seeing how
you never helped anyone you ever knew
You always were the
worst kind of ne'er do good
Just another woulda, coulda, shoulda,
real sad, sad man who's locked up
for chasing paper made out of wood
Copyright ©
Freddie Robinson Jr.
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