Lyrics Low Co. - Homeboy Sandman

Low Co.

LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON A CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
Yo, when I talk, listen.
I build a ark, flood and escape
Marks running this base like Marquis Grissom
Marks running in place on marquees
Nonsense narcissism, which God sees, this was God given upon me as part of
part-nership
It came with con-ditons
The first being: non-fiction;
ohm shanti
Honor the omniscient
To scribe for the all seeing, I strive as an artisan
I’m known like the coefficient
For true official
True efficient
Orpheus
Homey I teach fishing
Can’t stand the degrees homey then leave kitchens
My peaks is beyond reach even by Reed Richards
I ain’t wishing for rags to riches
If I could turn «bitch» to «ma'am» or «Mrs.»
Rags are sufficient
Conquest through my compositions
The clock’s ticking
And all the while the plot thickens
You might want to check it out
LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON A CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
My nexus be that next ish
Such that the members of my species crowned me founding father of the following
feces
Ain’t got no twitter followers who’d commit the folly of hollering for freebies
Ain’t all jolly in hollywood
Backstage models steal bottles of Fiji
Your eyelids are getting very heavy
You’re getting very sleepy
Hypnosis is the focus of the culprits promoting what joven behold on the TV
Ironic they take being hard and, make it look easy
Portray that there’s a greater green 'sides the greens that are leafy
Made toting macs something PC before the Mac and the PC
Might say I’m whining like Bebe and Cece
But it’s only true like only two’s in a package of Reese’s
The simple fact is rap is jacked up like Jack and his bean seeds
Who planted his beanstalk
I’m warming up the EMP
Boy Sand Industries
The bees knees
Biggest music factory since C & C
Sweet dreams
LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON A CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON THE CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
You could find me in the who’s who of who’s huge on YouTube
My tunes for the Tutsis and the Hutus
The Crips and Pirus
Who can’t hide from high risk at high noon
And good sister’s who’s dissed
Dismissing fools whistling from stoops like wild wolves howl at full moons
How rude
The here and now
Hear it now, new
Loud crowds of thousands going «wowsers» at how I do
Guerilla Monsoon
Godzilla/Kong feuds in every bar
Dip in the fondu
The fuzz doesn’t approve pumping the volume
Fangul
The food glorious food’s the fuel
Decorative bowls of frozen fruit
Light a fuse within the skulls of the chosen few
The environs remain a zoo
Until it’s Limewired inside Zunes
Out of the wazoo!
LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON THE CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
LOCOS IN THE FRONT
PEOPLE THAT KEEP A LOW PRO, IN THE BACK
I NEVER SOUNDED SO SO ON THE CUT
I AIN’T THE CAT WHO SOLD SOUL FOR THE SCRATCH
Believe that