Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song West Coast, artist - Homeboy Sandman. Date of issue: 29.05.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
West Coast |
| Shelter and heat and doesn’t seek much else |
| Featured in the sneak attack |
| Go to hell and back 'fore I repeat myself |
| Precision to double knot a junkie vein |
| From tying up hostages |
| My diet is lozenges and monkey brains |
| Agent of Hades wading through the red waters |
| Disillusioned and rueful and quadruple edged sword |
| Another clash, another classic down a massive drain |
| Gene Kelly dancing in the acid rain |
| Beneath the moon I penned the music for the village getting raided |
| Play while lickin' shots, I’m still in shock from ewing getting traded |
| While the Natives toast to better days, sippin' lemonade made from the water |
| where I waded |
| Meanwhile I’ll be looking down till all the mushroom clouds have dissipated |
| After that I’m looking 'round frowning at the nightmare I’ve created |
| Seemingly random as a fallen leaf |
| Convincing vics to cut the shit and play some chicken is like pullin' teeth |
| Beneath the willow tree, my back against the trunk |
| I quench my thirst for blood and think up everything I ever thunk |
| I lace my trainers where they run amok and never runner up |
| Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump |
| Word up |
| Sharpie for taggin' up my new forcefield |
| Inside my beard I got a 3-course meal |
| Inside my pad I got a tube that gets 2000 different channels on demand beside |
| the shelf I keep the pebble that I snatched from out your hand |
| I keep a Bounty paper towel to soak the blood from out my eye |
| I spit a watermelon seed and knock a drone from out the sky |
| So, when some nitwit tryna dim your light I be the stimuli |
| La la da da la da la da |
| Okay |
| I moved ahead from being on another level |
| Bout to brush up on the steps I use for dancing wit the devil |
| Bout to go and cop some alka seltzer tablets for the seagulls |
| Bout to sneak into a thousand different movies at the regal |
| All the while I win entire tournaments without no cornermen |
| As soon as that gets boring then I’m born again |
| I’m speaking for the people that just wanna light a match and watch it burn |
| Who always peek at hide and seek and hardly speak except for speaking out of |
| turn |
| I’m tryna break a curse |
| Instead I only make it worse |
| I don’t get flustered |
| Fuck it I’ma make it work |
| I’m dealing with bruises and concussion from celebrity discussion |
| And seen Atreyu get KO’ed by the nothin' |
| Tomorrow I’m drowning rubber duckies and smashing pumpkins and kickin' puppies |
| in public and then hopefully gettin' lucky |
| I’m folks wit Moses, Jesus, and Moe and Larry and Curly |
| The freshest pair of kicks will one day be dirty |
| And currently recording the cure for the common courtesy |
| Each and every sentence is from serving a different sentence concurrently |
| Time that never soften |
| Another nail for the coffin |
| Imposters is accosted often and early |
| Thoroughly |
| I was at it early on in the A. M |
| Catching some rain or catching some rays |
| Came up wit the cavemen |
| I’s already rocking Ray-Bans in the playpen |
| Incognito |
| Ego id superego |
| Wit the ah-men all day credo |
| Wit the bald head no chemo |
| Trapped where everybody dress the same like the end of 3 Amigos |
| But everybody know your name and that’s neato |