Solomon Jones

A bunch of wild boys was hanging around

At the local neighborhood saloon

And some cat kept dropping quarters down in the jukebox

Playing all the favorite tunes

And back by the bar playing cards looking hard

Was big bad Solomon Jones

And watching over his luck

Was the love of his life

Is the lady that was known as Simone

When out of the night which was dark and cold

Into the smoke-filled dimly-lit room

Stumbled in a thug

Who was smelling like bud

And his eyes looked high as the moon

He looked like a man with his foot in the grave

And his lifetime about to be out

Yet he slapped down some hundred-dollar bills on the bar

And he yelled out "drinks on the house"

Now nobody could place where this dude was from

But we knew that he was far from home

But we drank to his health

And the last to drink was big bad Solomon Jones

Now there are some G's

Who just run the streets

And they live life in and out of jail

And such was he, that kind of OG

That looked like he'd been through hell

With his hair in cornrows

A mean mug grill

Like a dog who's day is done

He lit up the green stuff in his cigar

And took hits one by one

Now I got to thinking who this cat could be

And what the hell is- going on

Well I turned around and who was staring at him

The lady that was known as Simone

And the white t-shirt all stained with dirt

He was trying not to be rude

But he was trying to find another

Good song on the jukebox

So he could just set the mood

Have you ever been out in the city streets

With the gang-made players so clear

Where the police and gangsters control the block

And gunshots is all that you hear

When the only sounds are the drums of war

And you left out in the cold

A half-dead man in a half-dead world

And a yellow-brick road to go

Then all of a sudden the music changed

And everyone just held their post