I’m just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I’m waiting for my rocket to come
I’m just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I’m waiting for my rocket, y'all
hey

y’see it started way back in NYC
when I stole my first rhyme from the M-I-C
at a West End Avenue at 63
it's the beginning of a leap year, February, ’96
with a guitar picked up in the mix
I committed to the licks like a nickel back of tricks
well look at me now
look at me now
look at me now, now, now, now

I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket to come
I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket, y'all
hey

well then you’re never gonna guess where I’ve been been been
and I have no regrets that i bet my whole checking account
because it all amounts to nothing up in the end
well you can only count on the road again
we’ll soon be on the radio dial
and I been payin close attention to the willie nelson style
like a, a band of gypsies on the highway while
I’m one man pushin’ on the California skyline drive
up the coast I brag and I boast
Cause I’m pickin up my pace and makin time like Space Ghost
raising a toast to the highway patrol with the most
put my cruise control on coast
Cause I'm touring 'round the nation on a standard vacation
See, I got Elsa the dog who exceeds my limitation
I say, "I like your style, crazy pound pup!
you need a ride? *woof*
well come on, girl, hop in the truck!"

I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket to come
I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket, y'all
I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket to come on
I'm just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket
and I'm waiting for my rocket, y'all

see I'm a down home brother, redneck undercover
with my guitar here I'm ready to play
and I'm a sucker for a filly
got a natural ability, geared to give the freestyle
look at my flexibility
dangerous at the mic
my ghetto hat's cocked right
the ladies say, "yo, that kid is crazy"
the backstage betties taking more than they can get
they say, "what's up with M-R-A-Z?"

hey, hey, hey, hey, hey something's different in my world today
well they changed my traffic signs to a brighter yellow
hey, hey, something's different in my world today
they changed my traffic signs to a brighter yellow
I'm just a curbside prophet, a curbside prophet now
curbside prophet now
curbside
come on, now
curbside prohet
waiting for my rocket to come...