The Last Chair Violinist lyrics by South Park Mexican - original song full text. Official The Last Chair Violinist lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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South Park Mexican – The Last Chair Violinist lyrics
[Verse 1: SPM]
One time when I come,
Two times when I'm done,
Old truck like Sanford and Son,
Next week can't recognize,
On chrome so pretty to the naked eyes,
That's me,
On the road again,
This 8 by 10 is closin' in,
In the hood I had it all,
And a cold muthafucker with a basketball,
Now I play with Prisoners,
And don't nobody trip with us,
Some in Garza,
Some in Dominguez,
Cops ask, "No speaky English",
And the Holidays are the hardest,
Gotta stay headstrong,
Regardless,
And you are gonna have your days,
In a place where Killas have to pray,
In a place where Killas have to pray,
In a place where Killas have to pray

[Chorus: Carolyn Rodriguez]
He is The Last Chair Violinist,
The One who brings hope,
To those who are The Last Chair Violinist,
Whose pain no one knows

[Verse 2: SPM]
I see the pain in the eyes,
Of lonely men,
When can we ever be hold again?
Without Gina and my kids,
A nigga just don't really wanna live,
But I gotta stay free in my mind,
Eventually hearts freeze doing time,
No love,
Just respect,
Still shank,
Touch his neck,
Pick up another casualty,
Put him in the Fridge,
Call his Family,
And his Mom had a Dream,
All this would be happenin',
Trafficking to the Rappin' King,
Everything's unraveling,
Invest in me,
It's Destiny,
I'll still wreck from the Penitentiary,
I'll still wreck from the Penitentiary,
I'll still wreck from the Penitentiary

[Chorus: Carolyn Rodriguez]
He is The Last Chair Violinist,
The One who brings hope,
To those who are The Last Chair Violinist,
Whose pain no one knows

[Verse 3: SPM]
Two hits Inhale,
Homie hold your breath,
This is all the Indo that's left,
Watch mayne,
Don't let them see,
Keep your eyes on the enemy,
He did 20 on 70,
Last game that he played was Centipede,
In the wold,
Everything changed,
Look around,
Things seen strange,
All the kids in Gangs and shit,
Little young mothafuckers livin' dangerous,
Claimin' this,
And chuckin' that,
Makin' more rules than a running back,
Up in prison,
He was Christian,
Got no Job,
And his wife is bitching,
So he's back on the streets again,
8 months later back in the Pen,
8 months later back in the Pen,
8 months later back in the Pen

[Chorus: Carolyn Rodriguez]
He is The Last Chair Violinist,
The One who brings hope,
To those who are The Last Chair Violinist,
Whose pain no one knows
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