[Intro: stick clicks, whistle, street crowd] (Hut! Hut!) Market Street, Saturday! Put it in the bucket! (Hut! Hut! Hut!) [Verse 1: cocky, crisp] Uncle Lonnie finishes drywall and he saves me all the buckets Scrape the mud out with a putty knife, flip 'em over, then I bust it Three of 'em in a half moon and a pot lid for the crash Pickle jar for the paper and a Cool Whip tub for cash I set up by the trolley stop where the cruise ship people land Got a rimshot like a car door and a backbeat like a marching band Bachelorettes from Cincinnati film me twenty minutes long Then they drop a single quarter and a lipstick, shit, they're gone [Hook: crowd call and response, drumline] Hit it! (Rimshot!) Flip it! (Rimshot!) Mud bucket cadence on Market Street Hit it! (Rimshot!) Tip it! (Rimshot!) Dollar in the jar if you move your feet Sticks taped up and the buckets cracked Cops say move it, I move it right back Hit it! (Rimshot!) Tip it! (Rimshot!) Market Street, keep the beat [Verse 2: trading with the crowd] Officer Petrakis says I can't set up on this square So I scoot it seven feet and now it's legal over there He just shakes his head and walks, but I seen him tap his shoe Every cop got a little rhythm, man, I'm working on him too Guy in a quarter-zip vest says he owns a rooftop bar Says come play my opening, it's exposure, you'll go far I can't tape a stick with exposure, can't buy a bus pass with a like Write a number on a napkin, man, or roll on, have a good night [Double-Time Switch: rudiment run, crisp] Single stroke double stroke paradiddle diddle I'm a flam tap kid with a putty knife and a pickle jar Ratamacue drag it through the trolley bell is on the two the pigeons scatter and the pastor hollers hallelujah Sticks crack tape it back a tourist in a fanny pack is clapping on the one and baby that's a tragedy Count it up a quarter quarter dollar dime a button and a bus pass and a nickel from Canada [Chopper Burst: stacked, no breath] I flip it and I rip it and I kick it on the rim and I pick it up and hit it till the whole block is jumping Rat a tat a backbeat on a bucket in the market and the trolley driver honking on the beat like he's in it Every stick is splintered and the tape is getting thinner but the jar is getting fatter and the block's a stadium [Breath Reset] (Hut!) [Hook: crowd call and response, drumline] Hit it! (Rimshot!) Flip it! (Rimshot!) Mud bucket cadence on Market Street Hit it! (Rimshot!) Tip it! (Rimshot!) Dollar in the jar if you move your feet Sticks taped up and the buckets cracked Cops say move it, I move it right back Hit it! (Rimshot!) Tip it! (Rimshot!) Market Street, keep the beat [Verse 3: slower, proud] Sun goes down behind the bank, I count it on the stoop Two hundred nineteen dollars and a coupon for some soup Gus from the shelter did the robot every time I hit the snare So I slide him twenty, and he bows like he's the mayor over there Jar on my dresser says STATE in Sharpie, tryouts in July Real snare in the music store window, and I wave at it walking by The drumline up at State don't know my name yet, that's okay But Market Street does [Outro: cadence fades, crowd] (Hut! Hut!) Market Street does!
