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Injury Reserve - 3rd Pick Phone A Friend Lyrics

Part 1: 3rd Pick[Intro: 1984 NBA Draft]And now, we are ready for the 3rd pick and the Chicago Bulls, who have been drafting very high down through the years, and they have the 3rd pick todayThe Chicago Bulls pick...[Ritchie with a T]H- hello? Hey, Mom. What? I know, I told you, I told you, I told you I was gonna do it, I couldn't... I know, I love you, Mom. Ay, hold on though, hold on because, lemme call you back 'cause Grandma's callin' me. Alright, alright, love youHello? Hello? Lauren, lemme talk to Grandma. Why're you, why're you ca-, why're you callin' on Grandma's phone? Hey, Grandma. Thank you, thank you. Love you too. Ay, ay, Coach, Coach Roberts is callin' me, though. Alright, I'll talk to you laterHello? Hey, Coach. Thanks so much. Thank you. Oh no- yeah, yeah, I gotchu, I gotchu but, um... But, ay, lemme go, m-, uh, [bleep] is callin' me. Yeah, aightPart 2: Phone a Friend[Ritchie with a T]Hello? Wassup! Wassup, man? Yo, I miss you, bro. Gettin' locked up and shit. What, bro? Lemme- tell me, bro! Tell me, nigga, for real, tell me. Alright, hold on, lemme put you on speaker[Verse 1: Stepa J. Groggs]Glad you doin' good[?][?], for being confinedTrapped behind these bars for a little bit of BSBut when I heard your name at that draftI knew we'd be blessedNo more dirty moneyFinally cleaning up this mess that I call lifeJust glad the judge didn't call "life"But now and then, even refs miscall, right?See you soon, my brotherYou know we gotta ball, right?[Verse 2: Ritchie with a T]You know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for youYou're my brother, all these suckas say that even if youDidn't get locked, you still wouldn't get a spotAt the top of the draft, like your popsAnd I just say, "I love you"No matter what, you were my teammateMy brother, my best friendYour mother is blessed, manI know the media was all over youFeel like they smother youLike a celebrity with new breasts, man[Verse 3: Stepa J. Groggs]Shit, and I'll never be a "Yes Man"But if they ask me that you're the bestThe answer's yes, manAnd if I get married, you know you'll be my best manSeems like yesterday, we growing up in the 'jects, famNow all you do is see green like a Jets fanAll these bad chicks [?]Make sure you stay humble, forget the restI'm proud of you, fam, wish you much success[Verse 4: Ritchie with a T]I got you, brotherActually, I got great newsI'm coming back home, your way, for a week or twoIt's gon' be just like old times, me and youYoung and reckless, lookin' for a freak or twoI'mma be honest, it's difficult to figure out what's goin' downHead goin' in circles, merry-go-roundsAm I happy, sad, scared, anxious?Smiley or frowns?Am I growin' up or growin' down?Down[Outro: Ritchie with a T]YeahAm I growin' up or growin' down?DownAm I growin' up or growin' down?Down