"Many people have many definitions of what family is.
Some say it's blood, some say it's a bond,
some say it's a bond made with blood.
Well, this is the story of Cousin Randy.
Cousin Randy, six-foot-seven cyco muthafucka,
locked down half his life.
He's my family, family by blood.
And if you see him, don't look at him long,
'cause he'll kill ya, in a second, and it wouldn't be the first time.
Cousin Randy..."
He'd disappear for years, then one day he would
just show
Dad would buy him shows, give him $50 and he'd go
He talked about the good old days of war in Vietnam
Did two tours of duty with his new love heroin
You knew he'd be convicted before he was ever tried
Did his time in Chino, then Folsom and Wayside
But every day was prison, molested as a kid
Abused by his stepfather, hard to believe the things
he did
We call him Cousin Randy
Couldn't get up in the morning, couldn't get to sleep
at night.
Swore the room was full of Demons, but nothin' was in
our sight.
No one was safe when Randy came out to play,
he would leave you for dead and then just walk away.
We call him Cousin Randy
One time while at Grandma's, it was getting kind
of late.
Randy stayed outside 'cause his odor was so great
He walked out the door and I told him "good night"
He charged me, grabbed my neck and he started
squeezing tight.
Dad and Jim and Grandpa jumped on to his back
He screamed "What's so good about it" before he let
up his attack.
The next day, while we were swimming, he tried to
drown my sister.
Laughing as she struggled, then he pulled her up and
kissed her.
We call him Cousin Randy. To us, he's just
Cousin Randy.
"Yeah, so when Cousin Randy wasn't in jail,
he used to trip around, sometimes showin' up at
the relatives house, hangin' for a while then leavin'.
You know, everybody feelin' sorry for him and shit,
'cause, you know, his mom died when he was so young of leukemia.
Well one time while he was staying at my grandfather's house,
you know, they were trying to help him out, gettin' him jobs, but you know,
Randy wasn't too much on workin'.
He had a one job he did longer than ever.
He never worked more than two days, but this job he lasted a week!
Yeah, it was taking the heads off o'chickens.
So one day my grandfather had to ask him, seein' how Randy
would get up early in the morning, make his lunch and he'd even go to
work early, he was like 'Randy, what's so great about this job?'
He says 'It makes ya think,
it makes ya wonder, i's just so expanding of the mind.
Ya see, there I am, I rip the head off the chicken, and then the chicken
starts flyin' all over. Then he comes back at me, and I wonder is he flyin'
back at me 'cause he's mad 'cause I ripped his head off, or is he flyin'
at me 'cause I'm holdin' his head in my hand, or is he flyin' at me 'cause
he can't see where he's goin'?'
Yeah, ain't no one seen Cousin Randy in many years..."
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