Homeboy Sandman - Richardsun lyrics
[Homeboy Sandman - Richardsun lyrics]
Mighty Morphin
Unsoftedned assortment a flying saucer
To the flying fortress
A fork in the road I drove to in a forklift
For lifting the fortune
I stripped from the fraudulent
They done put a fork in em
My sources are the paupers
I paint us a portrait's, recordings
The corner is my corner office
The natives are nauseous from
Inhaling the nonsense, it's noxious
Same pee pee caca since Bush vs Dukakis
Killer coppers is clocking the clockers
Who's out to pocket the Betty Crocker
They chopping like Benihana
End up like Jimmy Hoffa
Mi casa su casa, My mind'll wander
While modern monsters take
Pride in convincing
Minors to kiss the kilbasa
Got cousins getting accosted in Kinshasa
Pentecostals with Christ on the cross
And Ese's that holler "La Raza!"
Entire rosters are that's often
Off the rocker pills for poppin
Mamas and papas throughout the province
Is crying out like Chewbacca
Could spend an hour just counting
The commas of numbers
Offered for offing the offspring
Of Sara Connor
It's getting hotter under my collar
Than Gaza or Ghana
For every line that I write up
I might end up in a line-up
Or ocean's bottom, sleeping with the mullosks
But that's not a problem I pondered
Because Apollo done made me a promise
Allah done made me a prophet
And taking part in this garbage is
Only part of the process
All the while these labels wild
Like letting me be sovereign
Is doing me solid
Tell em chill for a minute
Doug E Fresh said silence
But they can't accept solace from
The cents and dollars sex and Violence
So shorty never had pride but she had Pradas
Shorty never saw his prom, but he had promise
Bunch of soap operas
Wrap it up, put it in the stores no problem
We making no progress
Forget pursuing a BA, just pump haracas
I pity the fools like BA baracus
Youngins is fresh-mouthed without Binaca
Peeps gone too far to peep without binoculars
And I could, just, write something
For the right rubbish
They hype brothers until whole tribes don't
Roll right like a tight rubber
My night's slumbering are type numbered
I write numbers to right brothers
Still alive still believe we can fly
Like the Wright Brothers
Live my life kinda like Bubba
Stiff-lipped, except his lower, mine's upper
Unsoftedned assortment a flying saucer
To the flying fortress
A fork in the road I drove to in a forklift
For lifting the fortune
I stripped from the fraudulent
They done put a fork in em
My sources are the paupers
I paint us a portrait's, recordings
The corner is my corner office
The natives are nauseous from
Inhaling the nonsense, it's noxious
Same pee pee caca since Bush vs Dukakis
Killer coppers is clocking the clockers
Who's out to pocket the Betty Crocker
They chopping like Benihana
End up like Jimmy Hoffa
Mi casa su casa, My mind'll wander
While modern monsters take
Pride in convincing
Minors to kiss the kilbasa
Got cousins getting accosted in Kinshasa
Pentecostals with Christ on the cross
And Ese's that holler "La Raza!"
Entire rosters are that's often
Off the rocker pills for poppin
Mamas and papas throughout the province
Is crying out like Chewbacca
Could spend an hour just counting
The commas of numbers
Offered for offing the offspring
Of Sara Connor
It's getting hotter under my collar
Than Gaza or Ghana
For every line that I write up
I might end up in a line-up
Or ocean's bottom, sleeping with the mullosks
But that's not a problem I pondered
Because Apollo done made me a promise
Allah done made me a prophet
And taking part in this garbage is
Only part of the process
All the while these labels wild
Like letting me be sovereign
Is doing me solid
Tell em chill for a minute
Doug E Fresh said silence
But they can't accept solace from
The cents and dollars sex and Violence
So shorty never had pride but she had Pradas
Shorty never saw his prom, but he had promise
Bunch of soap operas
Wrap it up, put it in the stores no problem
We making no progress
Forget pursuing a BA, just pump haracas
I pity the fools like BA baracus
Youngins is fresh-mouthed without Binaca
Peeps gone too far to peep without binoculars
And I could, just, write something
For the right rubbish
They hype brothers until whole tribes don't
Roll right like a tight rubber
My night's slumbering are type numbered
I write numbers to right brothers
Still alive still believe we can fly
Like the Wright Brothers
Live my life kinda like Bubba
Stiff-lipped, except his lower, mine's upper