Frankfort St, between Pearl and Gold

I don't know if you knew this, but of all my buddies, I'm most likely to end up on sidewalks. Sure we all heard that one time a Parliament box was left on the path behind the bridge, but it doesn't happen often. Sometimes you can count on there being a Marlboro nearby but usually it's just us Newports braving the elements. On the shelf, in the bodegas, everyone will tell you not to fight fate. If you're born a Newport, you'll find yourself, sooner or later, tossed out on the street. There is no garbage can waiting for me.