The rock was his pillow, the pavement his bed…

Chorus_
He leaves home less lost, with a gun and rose
wearing his heart on his sleeve left him a crown of thorns
now he believes in no rest, the stress of hunger grows
swearing at old age and death, the only fun he knows

Verse 1_
Find your talent; find your gold, he said -
Buy the ballot buy the vote,
But if you sign that rally sheet
We’ll both get thrown inside the hole!
Though solitary isolation might help you refine the chi,
It’s involuntary constipation boy – you need a lighter load,
Now drop the quiet role, if you seek the diamond-studded roads kid,
Go ask the one who mines the coal, and keep 3-eyes opened
For Ason of Old – Who roams the undergrowth -?
Shit, I’m told he’s known to chow fatal fungus toadstools
For sustenance and soul food –
Busted threads, seams aint been touched up since old school
Rusty dreads – sleepwalking the streets dusted his hairdo,
And his stare too – type cat to creep up and not just to scare you either, (Boo!)
So watch your rear view, travelling back-alley avenues
Cause a poor man bandit was an angry man handler too
But he only wanted food to console his sour stomach juice
Or a buck for brew, but you never considered giving a cent
Let alone a fucking hoot ….to Ason – while you busy paying the rent

Chorus_
He leaves home less lost, with a gun and rose
wearing his heart on his sleeve left him a crown of thorns
now he believes in no rest, the stress of hunger grows
swearing at old age and death, the only fun he knows

Verse 2_
Yo bro, you didn’t know, Ason of Old, he be well-seasoned veteran
Gold Medal of Honour rocker plus Cape Town welfare recipient
And the cunning cold block cuts a strict warfare curriculum
For him and his homeless, loyal kinsmen and 4 kids
Cause its all hell enrolling your little girl on Iceberg Slim ho lists
She kicks yells and screams ‘Daddy, No!’ but shit’s hopeless
See selling the soul of a seedling in search for the doe
It’s relative, only to severing your own penal node
Ironic, yes, but every time I see him he’s speaking to the Lord
Like a priest torn between the 10-head beast and a peaceful dawn
While he eggs me on to read, some more I adjust to receiver mode
He then recites the ‘laws on drugs’ section of the Penal Code
Geezer forever set me up situations, testing my cerebral scope
Telling me of bonafide felons who’ve so-called seen it all
Let the comp set the table and deal the cards – still beat ém all
See He’s the type to meet Grim Reapers in dark halls and kill
The beef, defeat the brawl with ill techniques and awesome skill
Cause Ason of Old saw the real, raw deal hungry meals
No happy money bills, once broke even his little brittle rib bones,
But chill and watch sonny build an imperial king’s throne
With his own two torn wrinkled palms ‘til he’s living calm,
Eyes sparkling, so twinkle, twinkle on Ason
Let the Gods wonder where you wander….

Chorus_
He leaves home less lost, with a gun and rose
wearing his heart on his sleeve left him a crown of thorns
now he believes in no rest, the stress of hunger grows
swearing at old age and death, the only fun he knows