Andrew Harris

I can see you as an old man, Harris
On the porch waving your fist
Giving what-for to the kids next door
For treading upon your lawn
I can see you as a border cop, man
Justifying your random stops
He looked the type and he proved you right
With an eighth of a gram and a pipe
I can see you as a single mother
With your baby, shaking uncovered
I’ll lend you my hand to help you out
And I’ll give you space on my couch
For everything that we have in common
There’s still a line where we divide
But I got your back on the other side
In the past, man, you’ve had mine
I see you with your black pint held high
It’s about the same height as mine
Hey, I see your glass red eyes
They scream «It's one hell of a night»
Andrew Harris, not an asshole
Nothing left to learn
Andrew Harris, he jus thinks
He should keep the money he earns