Why Oh Why - Spearhead

I say my prayers every morning just like orange juice

I crack the crinkles out my body till I’m feeling loose

I strap my sneakers on my feet like they was combat boots

they fit my feet like Cinderella when I’m shooting hoops

Why oh why do memories keep chasing me sometimes it makes me wanna grab my shit and flee

sometimes I wanna blow my brains to put my life at ease

but I ain’t clocking out I gotta see the seven seas

please seven’s a very lucky number for me that was the age when I discovered how good balling could be up every morning with the birdies doing little drills

go to my left go to my right developing mad skills

how could a love for this game bring so much sadness

I played with brothas with so much badness

but now they gone I sing a song pop a three

from the top of the key in they memory

Why oh Why do memories be chasing me sometimes it makes me wanna grab my shit and flee

even in seasons when it’s another color sport

I still be memorizing lines out on the basketball court singing

Why oh Why do memories be chasing me sometimes it makes me wanna grab my shit and flee

even in seasons when it’s another color sport

I be remembering my partners on the basketball court

Do you remember runnin’the court in September

me and my homies be down for whoever

would come along and try to send us to the showers

from the game that we’d been dominating’there for hours

all day to be more specific east to west

from Atlantic to Pacific fools would come round

to get down and try to take our crown

but we would hold our ground and we would never back down

old timers new timers would get in line there

and take a seat there and try to prepare

but oh no!

there was no chance when we was in the zone

we was alone at the top we had hops we got props

and when we needed to we busted chops

wipe the court with your game like we was using mops

what ever happened to the super hoopers in the park

I reminisce while shootin’solitary after dark

Brother C came fresh from out of town

and he had handles and like McDonald’s he could clown ya dribbling baby bounces between drinking forty ounces

knock ya on your heels and do circles like he was Curly Neal

but oh no, the liquor got quicker to his head and he said

I think I musta placed some stupid bets

he hit me up for some cash

there was a car crash a splash and then the brother made a mad dash

Rob oh Rob his whole life was like a roller coaster

but on the court he looked like a Dr. J poster

flying high with an Afro blowing in the wind

wiping Windex, index finger rolls off the glass

then swish through the net jump a Corvette with a triple pirouette

but off the court he had a few temptations copulations

no moderations by 24 he had 3 pregnations

last check crack intoxications

so many other brothers gone from this dimension

and none of those who got hurt receive a pension

give a Bup!

Bup!

to those locked up in detention

memories too many dimension

and we say, one more time… one more time