I take a bullet ride down Brighton Beach I pick a package right up off the street I sing a song about love, Tennessee There's 'bout a million places I could be I know the sunny side seems out of reach When all your skinny friends keep losing teeth I know the pretty things they ain't for me There's 'bout a million things I'd rather be Maybe the good life and me and you we ain't such a good match All the chips are stacked We keep coming last Maybe we were born bad Like a sign of the times Maybe we were born bad There's no reason or rhyme You keep a bullet tied tight 'round your neck In case a couple things ain't happened yet You got a killer frame, your silhouette And 'bout a million dreams inside your head No, I can't sing you back, can't write a check And I ain't out of love, ain't out of debt It's all the little things I can't forget It's 'bout a million things I should have said Maybe the good life and me and you we ain't such a good match All the chips are stacked We keep coming last Maybe we were born bad Like a sign of the times Maybe we were born bad There's no reason or rhyme Sometimes star-crossed kids never catch a break Hard times follow wherever you go Don't let the flame inside ever die away Hold on tight, girl, don't ever lose hope Maybe the good life and me and you we ain't such a good match All the chips are stacked We keep coming last Maybe we were born bad Like a sign of the times Maybe we were born bad There's no reason or rhyme