[Verse 1: cold gravel male MC] Three a.m., yellow light spinnin' on the roof Got a work order, got a number, got the proof Big white car with the gold on the grille Parked on the lawn of a man who never paid a bill Whole block owes him somethin', every porch, every door Five percent a week, and he always wanted more Took Miss Odell's wedding band and my uncle's welding gear Kept the whole street workin' doubles every day for seven years Funny thing about a shark, he don't read his own mail Four months late on that car, and now the bank is on his tail [Hook: cold gravel male MC] On the hook, now you on the hook Thirty years of names in your little black book Now your car's in the air with the wheels in the back You on the hook now, how you like that? [Verse 2: cold gravel male MC, nastier] Backed it up quiet so I wouldn't wake the dog Slid the wheel-lift under while the street was full of fog Hooked the chain to the frame, let the winch go click Then the back seat moved, and I saw him, thick Big man passed out in a silk robe, snorin' Wife locked the door, so he slept there till mornin' I could've tapped the glass, I could've said his name Instead I raised him nose-high like a trophy in a frame Down the block, five miles an hour, hazards on Every porch light flickin' on, every curtain drawn [Hook: cold gravel male MC] On the hook, now you on the hook Thirty years of names in your little black book Now your car's in the air with the wheels in the back You on the hook now, how you like that? [Bridge: cold gravel male MC, low, organ and chains] Miss Odell on her porch in her robe and her rollers Uncle on the steps with his arms crossed like a soldier Whole street watchin' that big man wake up in the sky Lookin' down at every face he ever squeezed dry [Verse 3: cold gravel male MC, final] He's bangin' on the window, "Do you know who the hell I am?" I said, "Yeah, you the man who's four months late, my man" He said, "I'll pay you double," I said, "Double's what you charge" Dropped him at the impound, let him sleep it off in the yard Little black book fell out on the tow-yard floor Every name on my street, every dollar, every score I knocked on every door on the block before the dawn Said, "You ain't on the hook no more, the book is ash, it's gone" [Final Hook: the title stutters like a winch ratchet, cold gravel male MC] On the h-h-hook, now you on the hook Thirty years of names in your little black book Now your car's in the air with the wheels in the back You on the h-h-hook now, how you like that? [End]
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