Sit Down Man Das Racist (Ft. El-P)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Sit Down Man" by Das Racist (Ft. El-P). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1: Heems]
I'm from Cop Killer, never killed a cop though
More the type to burn a spliff and eat a bag of nachos
More the type to read a novel, maybe bout Navajos
On a sunny day I'm on the block in a poncho
Venomous, extra sick, tell me how my bars feel
Talk shit, tell me how the floor of the bar feel
Young cocoa butter, I'm fresh as new car smell
Cynical lasagna loving cat, call me Garfield
Graffiti goes legit streets spray tags for soup cans
I paint Marine Green Newport packs, now who down?
Three brown, the slim thang I need a brand new van
To tour so they can make enough funds to send a Sudan
Spraying copyright symbols on yoga mats until I'm high enough
To type a bunch of rhyming words to tell you how I'm fly and stuff
Writing racial rants, Craigslist, start the race war
High as space dog, wild as three caged boars
Mom Dukes never told me to go to my room
A wild juvenile, she threatened to send me to Dehradun
That's in the motherland, her lover-dad hit me with a broom
Black and blue, at school where white kids call me dune coon
I'm still living this shit, something like a pigeon and pissed
Scribblin' some lip words to a script, literal shit
Belittled, we get hit quick, your little dick kicked in just for giggles and shits
Seriously, yeah
I'm from Cop Killer, never killed a cop though
More the type to burn a spliff and eat a bag of nachos
More the type to read a novel, maybe bout Navajos
On a sunny day I'm on the block in a poncho
Venomous, extra sick, tell me how my bars feel
Talk shit, tell me how the floor of the bar feel
Young cocoa butter, I'm fresh as new car smell
Cynical lasagna loving cat, call me Garfield
Graffiti goes legit streets spray tags for soup cans
I paint Marine Green Newport packs, now who down?
Three brown, the slim thang I need a brand new van
To tour so they can make enough funds to send a Sudan
Spraying copyright symbols on yoga mats until I'm high enough
To type a bunch of rhyming words to tell you how I'm fly and stuff
Writing racial rants, Craigslist, start the race war
High as space dog, wild as three caged boars
Mom Dukes never told me to go to my room
A wild juvenile, she threatened to send me to Dehradun
That's in the motherland, her lover-dad hit me with a broom
Black and blue, at school where white kids call me dune coon
I'm still living this shit, something like a pigeon and pissed
Scribblin' some lip words to a script, literal shit
Belittled, we get hit quick, your little dick kicked in just for giggles and shits
Seriously, yeah
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