
Karaoke Live: sing this song → TRAN KOBRA opened it for karaoke: their instrumental, their lyrics on a clock. Premium sings; everyone listens and votes.
One payment, no account needed. The WAV file, full quality. Or go Premium for the whole catalog.
(for you) (yeah)
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
Mama did nails six days, on her feet
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
So her son could talk slick on a beat
One day off, she spent it cookin' for the week
Now it's my turn. Mama, take a seat.
Seven a.m., mask on, the acetone sting
Lady in the chair on the phone, don't say a thing
Don't look up, don't say thanks, push a five across the table
Mama smile anyway. I learned that ain't weakness, that's a cable (strong)
Holdin' up a house, a whole kid, and a debt
Shop owner took a cut and she ain't complain yet
I did homework in the back by the towels and the wax
Learned my times tables off the tips, plus tax
She'd say "con ơi, study, don't end up like me"
Ma, I'd be lucky. You the strongest thing I've seen.
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
Mama did nails six days, on her feet
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
So her son could talk slick on a beat
First check from the music, didn't buy me a chain
Walked in that same shop in the middle of the day
Put the keys on the counter, told the owner "what's the price?"
He laughed. Then I showed him. Then he didn't. That was nice.
Now it say her name in red out on the glass
She still come in on Tuesdays 'cause she don't know how to pass
Time without her hands movin', that's the way that she was made
So I got her a chair. A good one. In the shade.
She don't understand the songs, she just know that they loud
Tell her friends at the temple "that's my son." That's the crowd.
Your hands still smell like it.
I hope they never stop.
(SIX DAYS!)
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
Mama did nails six days, on her feet
Six days! (six days) Six days! (six days)
So her son could talk slick on a beat
One day off, she spent it cookin' for the week
Now it's my turn. Mama, take a seat.
East Side San Jose. Learned money from the uncles playing cards behind the pho spot on Story Road, learned engines on a garage floor, learned silence from both. Cold, low, unhurried. He gets quieter right before he strikes.