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I Left My Wallet in El Segundo Lyrics

A Tribe Called Quest

<div>My mother went away for a month-long trip Her and some friends on an ocean-liner ship She made a big mistake by leaving me home I had to roam so I picked up the phone Dialed ali up to see what was going down Told him I pick him up so we could drive around Took the dodge dart, a ’74 My mother left a yard but I needed one more Shaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks So we left brooklyn and we made big tracks Drove down the belt, got on the conduit Came to a toll, we paid and went through it Had no destination, we was on a quest Ali laid in the back so he could get rest Drove down the road for two-days-and-a-half The sun had just risen on a dusty path Just then a figure had caught my eye A man with a sombrero who was four feet high I pulled over to ask were we was at His index finger he tipped up his hat El segundo, he said, my name is pedro If you need directions, I’ll tell you pronto Needed civilization, some sort of reservation He said a mile south, there’s a fast food station Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor Ali said, damn, tip, why you drive so far for? (well describe to me what the wallet looks like) Anyway a gas station we passed We got gas and went on to get grub It was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere Anywhere would have been better I ordered enchiladas and I ate ’em Ali had the fruit punch When we finished we thought for ways to get back I had a hunch Ali said, pay for lunch So I did it Pulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady She was a waitress there Put the wallet down and stared and stared To put me back into reality, here’s shaheed: Yo, tip, man, you got what you need? I checked for keys and started to step What do you know, my wallet I forget Yo, it was a brown wallet, it had props numbers Had my jimmy hats I got to get it man Lord, have mercy The heat got hotter, ali stars to curse me I fell bad but he makes me feel badder Chit-chit-chatter, car stars to scatter Breaking on out, we was northeast bound Jettin’ on down at the seepd of sound Three days coming and three more going We get back and there was no slack 490 madison, we’re here, sha He said, all right, tip, see you tomorrow Thinking about the past week, the last week Hands go in my pocket, I can’t speak Hopped in the car and torpe’ed to the shack Of shaheed, we gotta go back when he said Why? I said, we gotta go ’cause I left my wallet in el segundo Yeah, I left my wallet in el segundo Left my wallet in el segundo Left my wallet in el segundo I gotta get, I got-got ta get it