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Let me tell ya bout a man named Lamaine yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
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he’ll roll a stony like a cigarillo from DePaul there’s always green
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ready to smoke for us all there’s always stories told the best that
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you’ve ever heard he’ll also tell you something just to speak over your
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words yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
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I’ve known this black man since we cooked on the corner of good ti-I-
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Imes yeah yeah yeah a few years older but the man had had a few more
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good times you know what I mean Tina the girl just text me and she
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wants to know where’s my man Lamaine yeah yeah where’s my man lamaine
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yeah yeah where’s my man lamaine
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The man had smoked a little and drank a little more his whiskey cup said
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wendy’s his girl had took him to the store he walked in with a smile a
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smile upon his face but by the time he left he was a stoned sour mashed
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whiskey face yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah let me tell ya bout a man
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named lamaine yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
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He passed out early bout ten o clock or eleven he was sitting out on the
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porch with a cigarette still smoking in his hand I slapped lamaine a few
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times to make sure he was alive I checked his pulse his breathing and
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all his vital signs yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
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The last thing he said before his crack ho girlfriend’s pimp showed up
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please help me lord just get me through the night lamaine forgot his gun
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he had left it in his drawer the pimp swung his pimp hand and his girl
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lay upon the floor lamaine had got up just to run his mouth out of
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respect of the whore the death was short since the man put a bullet
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between his I I eyes a bullet between his eyes let me tell ya
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bout a man named lamaine yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
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