Crime in the City (Sixty to Zero, Pt. 1)

Well, the cop made the showdown He was sure he was right He had all of the lowdown From the bank heist last night His best friend was the robber And his wife was a thief All the children were killers They couldn't get no relief The bungalow was surrounded When a voice loud and clear Said, come on out with your hands up Or we'll blow you out of here There was a face in the window The TV cameras rolled Then they cut to the announcer And the story was told The artist looked at the producer The producer sat back He said, "What we have got here Is a perfect track But we don't have a vocal And we don't have a song If we could get These things accomplished Nothin' else could go wrong" So he balanced the ashtray As he picked up the phone And said, Send me a songwriter Who's drifted far from home And make sure that he's hungry Make sure he's alone Send me a cheeseburger And a new Rolling Stone Yeah "There's still crime in the city" Said the cop on the beat I don't know if I can stop it I feel like meat on the street They paint my car like a target I take my orders from fools Meanwhile some kid Blows my head off Well, I play by their rules That's why I'm doin' it my way I took the law in my hands So here I am in the alleyway A wad of cash in my pants I get paid by a ten year old He says he looks up to me There's still crime in the city But it's good to be free Now I come from a family That has a broken home Sometimes I talk to Daddy On the telephone When he says that he loves me I know that he does But I wish I could see him I wish I knew where he was That's the way All my friends are Except maybe one or two Wish I could See him this weekend Wish I could walk in his shoes But now I'm doin' my own thing Sometimes I'm good, then I'm bad Although my home has been broken It's the best home I ever had Yeah Well, I keep gettin' younger My life's been funny that way Before I ever learned to talk I forgot what to say I sassed back to my mom I sassed back to my teacher I got thrown out of Bible school For sassin' back at the preacher Then I grew up to be a fireman Put out every fire in town Put out anything smokin' But when I put the hose down The judge sent me to prison He gave me life without parole Wish I never put the hose down Wish I never got old