I say my prayers every morning just like orange juice
I crack the crinkles out my body till I'm feeling loose
I strap my sneakers on my feet like they was combat boots
they fit my feet like Cinderella when I'm shooting hoops
Why oh why do memories keep chasing me
sometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and flee
sometimes I want to blow my brains to put my life at ease
but I ain't clocking out I gotta see the seven seas
please seven's a very lucky number for me
that was the age when I discovered how good balling could be
up every morning with the birdies doing little drills
go to my left go to my right developing mad skills
how could a love for this game bring so much sadness
I played with brothas with so much badness
but now they gone I sing a song pop a three
from the top of the key in they memory

(Chorus)
Why oh Why do memories be chasing me
sometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and flee
even in seasons when it's another color sport
I still be memorizing lines out on the basketball court singing
Why oh Why do memories be chasing me
sometimes it makes me want to grab my shit and flee
even in seasons when it's another color sport
I be remembering my partners on the basketball court

Do you remember runnin' the court in September
me and my homies be down for whoever
would come along and try to send us to the showers
from the game that we'd been dominating' there for hours
all day to be more specific east to west
from Atlantic to Pacific fools would come round
to get down and try to take our crown
but we would hold our ground and we would never back down
old timers new timers would get in line there
and take a seat there and try to prepare
but oh no! there was no chance when we was in the zone
we was alone at the top we had hops we got props
and when we needed to we busted chops
wipe the court with your game like we was using mops
what ever happened to the super hoopers in the park
I reminisce while shootin' solitary after dark

(Chorus)

Brother see came fresh from out of town
and he had handles and like McDonald's he could clown ya
dribbling baby bounces between drinking forty ounces
knock ya on your heels and do circles like he was Curly Neal
but oh no, the liquor got quicker to his head and he said
"I think I musta placed some stupid bets"
he hit me up for some cash
there was a car crash a splash and then the brother made a mad dash
Rob oh Rob his whole life was like a roller coaster
but on the court he looked like a Dr. J poster
flying high with an Afro blowing in the wind
wiping Windex, index finger rolls off the glass
then swish through the net jump a Corvette with a triple pirouette
but off the court he had a few temptations copulations
no moderations by 24 he had 3 pregnations
last check crack intoxications
so many other brothers gone from this dimension
and none of those who got hurt receive a pension
give a Bup! Bup! to those locked up in detention
memories too many dimension
and we say, one more time... one more time

(Chorus)

Writer : MICHAEL FRANTI
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group