Das Racist, El-P - Sit Down Man lyrics

I'm from Cop Killer
Never killed a cop though
More the type to burn a spliff
And eat a bag of nachos
More the type to read a novel
Maybe bout Navajos
On a sunny day I'm on the block in a poncho
Venomous, extra sick
Tell me how my bars feel talk shit
Tell me how the floor of the bar feel
Young cocoa butter
I'm fresh as new car smell
Cynical lasagna loving cat, call me Garfield
Graffiti goes legit streets spray
Tags for soup cans
I paint Marine Green Newport packs
Now who down? Three brown
The slim thang I need a brand new van
To tour so they can make enough
Funds to send a Sudan
Spraying copyright symbols on yoga mats
Until I'm high enough
To type a bunch of rhyming words to
Tell you how I'm fly and stuff
Writing racial rants, Craigslist
Start the race war
High as space dog, wild as three caged boars
Mom Dukes never told me to go to my room
A wild juvenile
She threatened to send me to Dehradun
That's in the motherland
Her lover dad hit me with a broom
Black and blue
At school where white kids call me dune coon
I'm still living this shit
Something like a pigeon and pissed
Scribblin' some lip words to a script
Literal shit
Belittled, we get hit quick, your little dick
Kicked in just for giggles and shit's
Seriously

Aright, what's up?
Papa watch me on Google Alerts, hi dad!
I'm at the Whitney with DJ Spooky, on an iPad
Shotgunning Schlitz in a woman's can
And catching some catch as you can
Key bumps from the bug-eyed man fan
Can, can
Can you do the smarty pants can-can?
So you think you can dance?
Here is your stinking advance
Back ends, tap them, stack ends
White people, play this for you black friends
Black people smack them
Moose spoonin' with candy flippers
Whomever the edible panties fit
Gets the candy glass brandy-snifter
Shake hands with fans that demand a picture
Like "Hey man, hey man, are you Himanshu
Or Victor?"
Soul dudes, show crew, home brews
Call Kool AD living contradictory since '83
Arkansas street
Like a block from the projects
HP some more blocks from some other projects
To Alameda so we not by the projects
Now look at me, getting nods from my projects
The brother's logic is stop when you got it
But, I don't got it yet
So I'm not gonna stop it
Street freak-a leak
Socialize with the fetally
Meek shall inherit the earth
Earth shall inherit the meek
You can stare at the street but
The street stare back at you
Talk greasy, somebody take a crack at you
Act the fool, somebody finna laugh at you
Like "dude
I don't like your fucking attitude"

Gangster computer god
Mind slut's my pseudonym
Fuck anyone giddily, giggle, simply misery
Feelings whittle bitch pitches
But where the juicy tag
First to always be the great
Choosy Brooklyn or Lucy Brown
Harbinger of the bum rush plus oozin'
Away a ton or more
Buddy cops kiss each other
Pederast priests fuck whores
Let's set the moral compass to
Something a little sacrilege
I'm Pirate Jenny this whole
Town Black Freighter, i'm maggin' this
Nobody sleeps tonight
Keep your car alarm evening
Perpetual garbage truck
Annoying ice cream truck jingling
(Hey young world) conscious got
Donkey-punched by aristocrats
Maniac, brainiac, fist-fucked in a dunce cap
Looking at it from space
You can see the race is just one lap
The tranquility now is just
Future anarchy unhatched
I'm on a new drug plus alternate reality
Some dimensional shifting It's hidden
From all the cowardly
Gypsies read the palm and they vomit
They give me back my dollar
Hollerin "Oh God! Get out you monster!"
Mumalo covered a song and it's a running joke
My comedy is common is as
Greymatter converted into runny yolk
I'm not in the mood
(stop) A lot more to rue (raw)
Hot rod of intoxicants
(roo) Gobblin your food (gone)
Applaud to the truthiness
Truly I'm a lost boy half man, half-smoke
No joke got it on Locke boy
Take your little sad poopy pants
To the corner toy i'm gonna bring a blaze
Bleeder burn a bridge, burn a boy sit down!