My friend Harry Allen is one of America's foremost authorities on contemporary rap and hip-hop culture. When a Wizard Academy student asked him how he could possibly admire lyrics that celebrated a degenerate lifestyle, Harry answered by snapping his fingers rhythmically and singing in a rich baritone, “Trailers for sale or rent. Rooms to let, fifty cents…”

Roger Miller, 1965:

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let…fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination…Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out suit and shoes,
I don't pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain't locked
When no one's around.

I sing,
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.