Lyrics:

im just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket and im waiting for my rocket to come im just a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket and im waiting for my rocket ysee it started way back in nyc when i stole my first rhyme from the m.i.c. at a west end avenue at 63 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 well youre never gonna guess where ive 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 well soon be on the radio dial and i been payin close attention to the willie nelson style like a band of gypsies on the highway while im one man pushin on the california skyline drive up the coast mc brag the most i m pickin up my pace and makin time like space ghost raising a toast to the highway patrol and to most but my cruise control's on coast cause im touring around the nation on extended vacation see i got Elsa the dog who exceeds my limitation i say,