[Intro: aching male rapper, over Hammond organ and piano] Church parkin' lot, and the rain is comin' thin Coach hands me a white glove, says, "Son, you're goin' in" [Verse 1: aching male rapper, on the hard backbeat] Four years on the bench with a towel on my knee Marcus at the point, and the whole town came to see He'd look back at me from the free-throw line and wink Like a brother, like a promise, like a dare, I used to think Every game I'm at the table with my jersey half untucked Marcus called me "Sixth" so much the nickname got me stuck Twenty points a night, and he'd feed me in the warmups Said, "You're gonna start one day, I swear, so keep your arms up" Senior night he turned his ankle, and I still stayed on the pine Coach said, "Next year, kid," and next year never came in time Now it's April and it's rainin' and the steeple's in the gray And they're callin' out the names of who is carryin' today [Hook: belting male soul singer over gospel organ and heavy drums] I was always the sixth man, never started, never cried Now I'm one of six men, and I'm walkin' at your side I was always the sixth man, never once got in the game Now I'm one of six men, and I'm carryin' your name [Verse 2: the organ swelling] Box is heavier than anything I ever lifted in a gym Every step down the aisle, I'm takin' steps for him He would drive the lane and kick it out to anybody wide I was never on the floor, but he was lookin' to my side I can hear the old gym, hear the sneakers, hear the horn Hear him yellin', "Sixth, get ready," in the jersey that he'd worn Five of the old starters with the white gloves on the brass And a space left at the corner like a lane left for a pass [Hook: belting male soul singer, organ and drums] I was always the sixth man, never started, never cried Now I'm one of six men, and I'm walkin' at your side I was always the sixth man, never once got in the game Now I'm one of six men, and I'm carryin' your name [Verse 3: aching male rapper, carrying it, the rhyme breaks on the last line] Funeral man pulled me over with a napkin from the ward Marcus drew it like a play with the X's on the board Five names on the handles, and an arrow to the last "Put my sixth man in, Coach, he's been waitin' on the pass" So I'm out here on the blacktop of a parkin' lot in rain Finally in the lineup, and I'm in it for the game Every whistle that I sat through, every season on the chair Every time I had my hands up and you found me in the air You passed it one more time [Hook: belting male soul singer, full organ and drums, over the gap] I was always the sixth man, never started, never cried Now I'm one of six men, and I'm walkin' at your side I was always the sixth man, never once got in the game Now I'm one of six men, and I'm carryin' your name [Outro: aching male rapper, over the organ] Put the sixth man in, Coach, put the sixth man in I'm finally in the game, and I ain't never comin' out again [End]
