Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Yeah But I Can Rhyme Though, artist - Homeboy Sandman. Album song The Good Sun, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.05.2010
Song language: English
Yeah But I Can Rhyme Though |
Sand, you a hard brother to figure out |
Recitin' Roots verses takin' curses and «nigga» out |
Can’t even bring ya to clubs |
Unlimited women out |
DJ spin' any ignorant rhythms you wiggin' out |
Isn’t it a drag, draggin' round that bag that you livin' out? |
Cause you don’t have any pad any flat any crib or house |
That beat of your own drum sounds more like a bounce to a different couch |
Yeah, but I can rhyme though |
You’ve been rockin' them sweatpants for 10 years |
What’s up with that beard? |
Boy is that weird |
This isn’t a war zone, fatigues aren’t tact here |
Your wardrobe screams I’m the brokest cat here |
It screams it loud and clear |
You need a real career, this isn’t North Korea |
You’re livin' in a capitalist state |
And your capital’s scarce |
Yeah, but I can rhyme though |
Some are rather direct |
Some would rather to eschew |
Some would rather to wreck |
Some would rather to rescue |
When none of that works |
Cats will gather to test you |
But fans will gather to check you |
A melody pure and true |
Sand, you’re buggin' not gettin' on Twitter |
Think of all of the fans who’d love to monitor |
Your each and every move, maybe you should consider |
The web traffic you’ll lose for tryin' to have dinner |
Without an interruption every second I doubt |
You’ll mind the extra attention when your record is out |
Don’t you feel your reluctance to travel the regular route |
Could leave you left out? |
Nah, cause I can rhyme though |
Ummmmm |
You’re not exactly a backpacker |
You’re not a gang banger |
You’re not a swagger rapper |
You’re not a hustler but you’re not a slacker |
Not a half stepper but you’re not a kappa |
You’re not a trapper even though you kept a Trapper Keeper |
You don’t hug the block or smoke a lot of reefer |
You’re not a pimp, you’re not a hipster |
Even though you got a lot of sneakers, you don’t fit the box so how you gon' |
get out the speakers? |
Good thing I can rhyme though |
Some are rather direct |
Some would rather to eschew |
Some would rather to wreck |
Some would rather to rescue |
When none of that works |
Cats will gather to test you |
But fans will gather to check you |
Our melody pure and true |
You’re too big, you’re too small |
You’re too dark, too short, you’re too tall |
You’re too poor, too old you’re too young |
You’re too slow, you dunce, you’re too dumb |
And life ain’t fun, but here’s a little fun fact |
What you’re tryin' to get done, nobody’s ever done that |
How ridiculous, reachin' for stars |
You can’t even stare at the sun jack |
Yeah, but I can rhyme though |
You know what? |
Fine; |
shine |
Maybe I’m mad because your future’s brighter than mine |
And you man enough to slander the standard standin' in line |
Cut the complainin' and the moanin' and take a hold of your moment in time |
And that’s a thing some people despise |
Not even that they tryin' to pull you down, they really just tryin' to pull you |
aside |
Anybody who says you’re out of your mind |
For tryin' to be somebody, somebody you gotta remind |
That… |