Alright, alright
Nah, nah

When I grew up, criminals were my heroes
The beanie from New Jersey drive over my earlobes
From jump it was always fuck cops and the bureau
Mixing Casper, Herald Hunton and De Niro
Now I'm with my kids and we watchin' Olaf
And I'm like, "Damn, I used to wanna be like O-Dog"
Tuck the deuce, deuce under the goose, boostin' y'all
Couple screws loose, cashier turns, poof, I'm gone
Seven, I heard NWA in the street
from my older neighbor who was payin', "Fuck Da Police"
'Leven writin' graffiti, fifteen, I'm sellin' weed
By sixteen, I had an MPC
(It was Hip Hop's fault) that I wanted to grow up
Sell drugs, smoke blunts, drink Mad Dog and fuck
Wanted a windbreaker and some Eastbay kicks
Wanted the perm like DJ Quik
My mama said, "Ben, are you aware your hair is way too thin"
But in my mind I was junior high, Iceberg Slim
Feelin' fine, gettin' high, spendin' time with a bitch
Takin' Heineken sips, this as live as it gets, shit
But me, man, I wanted to be a vandal
Wanted to kick it with the people livin' in the bando
On Third and James by the fountain where they panhandle
Runnin' from the cops, pullin' scandals, those were my heroes

Pick up the mic, put your money where your mouth is
Doin' petty crimes, back in the days
Too much OE, tipsy off the whiskey
Pick up the-the-the-the mic, the-the-the mic
Put your money where your mouth is
Doin' petty crimes, back in the days (drinkin', smokin')
My clique is too great

Back in the days, hit the boulevard on Broadway
Before the downtown turned to a big All Saints
I was rollin' 'round with the forty ounce of malt drink
Posted up in front of the 7-Eleven all day
My heroes didn't look like yours
My heroes didn't look yours, nah, nah
They didn't work a 9 to 5, they worked a 5 to 4
Wake up at three and recordin' more
See my heroes died of overdoses, rider for the culture
Mind tied to psychosis, all the lies of show biz
My heroes shot dope and inhaled blow in their noses
Got locked up, got out and did some more shit
I got the Devil in me and a bunch of Henny with me
And we fuck up any city, heavy hittin' any innings
Steal the pancakes off your pate and then I'm robbin' you at Denny's
And the Plymouth that is tinted and the Sherman's got me spinnin'
You don't want it with this, put the truck in his ribs
We don't fight fair, fuck that, we jump in, get our licks
Reds and whites flash, do the dash, hop the fence
Wake up, smoke a bunt, hit the park and do it again for my heroes

Pick up the mic, put your money where your mouth is
Doin' petty crimes, back in the days
Too much OE, tipsy off the whiskey
Pick up, pick up, pick up the mic
Put your money where your mouth is
Doin' petty crimes, back in the days (drinkin', smokin')
My clique is too great

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Ben Haggerty, Christopher Martin, Joshua Karp, Joshua Rawlings, Terrance B Cole