I guess it has been a minutenAnd the south paw aint felt right without the pen in itnSent for incentive and sittin’ submissivenBut nothin’ bringin’ Jimmy back, you know that – prayin’ a waste of wishesnI made a decision – carry on, honor lives in the deednThough the muse moves in decreased speednDue to the wait, my dude lose patience with me?nFavor the Blue, you knew what I was trainin’ to benI came for the takin’ of something they aint seen back in HenrynThe proximity to Knox’s Fort’s not given any butnCause to envy – Lord when have we fought the enemynWith more that afforded, we’re stormin’ the port of entrynIn memory of the James Clan, my symphony of the nFlames fan to conquer, when the song come on – pay the bandnSend a percentage back, Oldham owed, factor in estate taxnOr waive it if it goes to pave Tobacco RoadnnSome memories I keptnOthers left, others I must have let go to protectnHold a check for the row I set – ready? No, not yetnWell lemme know and I’ll return to collectnThey never found me ‘cause Valerie’s boy had a different rhythm to play to nAnd he gon’ use his tools to break throughnMindful of the nights in that state, who they say life is what you make itnWhen really life is what makes younnPayin’ homage, with a big nod to AubreynThe schools failed me, thank God the farm taught me nThe value of a calloused hand, how to work and plow this landnHow even a modest crop will make your pop the proudest mannHarvest of a thousand fans, sans a gram of seeds broadcastnThrough loud speakers, in the weeds I was born lastnProfound effect on my volume, plus the readiness to fill itnIn the field you should hear what they call ‘em nRegardless I should have spent another year on the bottom tiernInstead of trynna dodge what it was I thought got ‘em heren89 the number, 84 lumber – another summernFightin’ for cash to mash on the likening nOf cycles I’ve seen – those not keen on collegenLost direction or went to be correctional officersnNo opportunity was offered us, I had my sights onnBeing gone ‘fore they cut the lights on, Ryan’s songnRight or wrong, tie it tighter, I’m tired of buying into nGuidance gone awry, my father fought it with firearms andnDied in the trauma the violence spawned a child of dramanNo wonder he’s prone to wander, knowin’ his home is hauntednPrayin’ that over yonder they still knownHow much I love ‘em I just had to go, had it with the status quonThey’re askin’ me if I’ll be back when I’m oldnIn fact, no – these are my last tracks along Tobacco RoadnnBut I’ll forever call it homenAnd I feel it whenever I call home (X4)