| All I hear is honking horns
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| Behold A Pale Horse galloping on a honkey’s lawn
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| Behold a pale corpse jacking off to zombie porn
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| Beneath a air force trained on playing Donkey Kong
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| Somebody’s granddaughter ain’t like her own tetas
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| Saved up ten grand, now she like the Grand Tetons
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| Her and her parents worse rivals than the Yankees/Sox
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| Really love Johnson, even was a fan of Keyshawn
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| Winston Churchill said, «Carry on, keep calm.»
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| But R. Kelly got room keys, I mean key cards
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| Pimps that rock bright colored gear are called peacocks
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| Hooker’s johns are nothing like Jean Luc Picard
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| Going someplace mad people have been before
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| Dingbats even wind up in the bing because
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| Promised not sing the chorus if it pleased the court
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| You could tell it was a croc (k) cause he rocked Lacoste, uh
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| Knicks down, listening to ODB
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| But for the mix down, this is what an OD be
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| I’m like the dude in commercials for Dos Equis
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| Or Duran Duran
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| Or Durant from OKC
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| When I meet some girlies they will not say peace
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| Cause they seen me earlier on OKP
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| I might give in if she got some okay cheeks
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| Even more so if she got some okay chi
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| Lotta cats get married when they both gon' cheat
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| I am not sure what they think they gon' achieve
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| It’s like two potheads thinking that they both gon' chief
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| Once they got there, ain’t nobody brought no trees
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| Or a sad dog who’s owner ain’t brought no treat
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| I’m the big dog, I ain’t gotta show no teeth
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| I see hard rocks so afraid to play low key
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| All their art screams pussy like Georgia O’Keefe’s
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| Stop it
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| Pocket fulla copper
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| Copper helicopters
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| Cat divine in concert
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| Can’t divide and conquer
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| On it, fly on caca
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| Sung la cucaracha
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| I dance the gun kata
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| I done a bit of bikram
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| I’m big on vinyasa
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| I’m big in Kinshasa
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| Posers move over
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| My pops was Mufasa
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| Check on que pasa
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| Connect at Queens Plaza
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| Mi casa, su casa
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| Or get here by the Goethals
|
| But watch out for the potholes
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| Hear the cono carajos
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| Let out by the apostles
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| The world’s oldest profession
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| Transpired inside the brothels
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| The proof is in the fossils
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| The troops is in the foxholes eyeing the gestapo
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| I step up to the plate like Placido Polanco
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| Ace is Ali Baba
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| Face is Johnny Bravo
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| Wrists might be rocky
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| Heart could still be Drago
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| Ughh |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sputnik , by - Homeboy Sandman. Song from the album First of a Living Breed, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп