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king
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we can rule in our own little world
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A passionate, poetic emcee from Louisville, Kentucky that works with amazing producers from all across the hip-hop scene. A lover of all musical genres that fin
VISIT SUTTER CANE ON THE WEB WWW.SUTTERCANEMUSIC.NET SUPPORT THE MOVEMENT Robert Bratcher II grew up obsessed with music. In his earliest childhood memories he recalls lying on the floor in his room listening to the beautiful harmonizing on the “Beach Boys” album “Pet Sounds.” Growing up in Louisville, Kentucky as a child of the 80’s, Rob was only exposed to certain music early in life. Mostly just radio hits from Madonna, Duran Duran, New Kids On The Block, MC Hammer, and others. As he grew older he discovered the music scene outside of 80’s pop radio. Through his teen years he was heavily moved by hip-hop and grunge rock. Later on he discovered the treasures of 60’s and 70’s psychedelic rock. Rob continued to rummage through local record stores, and his parents vinyl collection, digging deeper into the world of music. Poetry was another art form that Rob became attached to at a young age. Inspired by an articulate elementary school English teacher, he found poetry tremendously moving. He began writing poems on a regular basis, and this was something he would continue to do throughout his life. By the time he was 18, Rob had fallen in love, dropped out of high school, been in quite a bit of trouble with the law, tried nearly every drug imaginable, and made every mistake a bewildered teenager can make. After a series of negative drug experiences that left him with ongoing mental torment, Rob returned to the creative languages that had touched a chord in his heart as a child. Once again he found himself infatuated with music and poetry, this time as an aspiring artist. Sutter Cane was the novelist from the film “In the Mouth of Madness.” He wrote books that caused the reader to go insane. Three years into his music career, Rob chose "Sutter Cane" as his musical alter ego. He uses music and poetry as a way to deal with life. Whether he spent the night arguing with his girlfriend, sharing beer and deep conversation with his close friends, or performing music in a local bar, you will hear about it in his songs. Honest emotions and simple analogies of life are what you will find in this music. No preaching, no bragging, and no cookie-cutter hip-hop; just sincere words and heartfelt expressions from a dreamer with good intentions and many scars CONTACT SUTTER CANE ON AIM: MSOLOIST
Song Info
Charts
Peak #1,332
Peak in subgenre #95
Author
Lyrics: Sutter Cane Productions: Jordan Davis
Rights
sutter cane 2005
Uploaded
January 13, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
verse 1 It’s hard to be king and succeed every time (that’s why I’m not and I don’t) But the scars on my wings keep grounded enough (I’m not meant to fly high and I won’t) Becoming cozy folds me and holds me for keeps Sleep with only dreams I’m exposed to the sheets Call them freaks when they used to walk the streets with their jackets The invalids died now it’s Good Charlotte Pacify me that road so familiar Sippin on that Guinness till it kills ya It seems I’m the king in this group of peasants Since adolescence and left in the middle of lessons Passing the grass for communion I won’t be allowed in my class reunion Life was just a soundtrack without the flick It was a click but it ended quick I’m the king (and this bed is my thrown) In this home that I may never leave I’m the king (of lethargic regretful behavior) It’s been that way since I was young I’m the king (of excuses and exaggerations) A patient awaiting his nurse to save him I’m the king (And you can be my queen) We can rule in our own little world verse 2 Atherton 96 through 2000 (I settled for the good enough degree) Many in my class didn’t pass if you ask (it’s addiction or pregnancy) Little fat ass with the Paul McCartney cut (you know the one with the bangs) Got faded degraded myself with substance (in more ways than one it was strange) Little girl with the curls a song of many topics Hopped into cockpit noticed and tried to stop it Loaded my mind with gothic images of the tropics Limited in my options swimming in the concoctions Then I learned rap kids are mainly followers Who throw up and then grow up be idolaters The pot uses racist slang against the kettle I address my kingdom I will wave verse 3 I remember it clear it was New Year’s Eve Leaving Church in a search for my fix I found it on Chamberlain Lane with the same Older person that I’d went to for kicks (shits and giggles) Not shoes but bottles of booze trees and shelter Refusing to waddle in blues and needs Helter Skelter waiting for commands from the culture Close to death just like a vulture The late night debates with the head of the house Deaded from sedatives leaving me shredded wetted and doused Letter to editor he a competitor he’ll make it out of this Religion, music, friends, etcetera no longer cloudiness We breathe the susceptible kids will love it Let’s bottle it, market it, they can’t get enough of it Gone are days of immaculate paintings Dawn of the craze for inaccurate dirt
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