Loads Lyrics By Homeboy Sandman

Artist/Band Name: Homeboy Sandman

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Lyrics To Loads

I got a girl that knows all the words to OC’s “Time’s Up”
A bunch of others take me out to dinner and try and fuck
Cop tried to pull me over on my bike
Kill that noise
I had to peel yelling “get a real job fat boy!”
My subjects matter and my bones don’t break
I ain’t scared of a bag someone left on the train by mistake
I’ll fall flat ‘fore I fall back
I ain’t scared of dying
This planet ain’t all that
I restore order off boredom
Meet the baddest biddies in the world then forget to call em
I ain’t even trying to balance
Tried moderation and it stank
I ain’t even got a balance
I ain’t even got a bank
If I ain’t getting paid somebody should not care
If I came late, be happy I got there
And I don’t give a damn ’bout clearing a sample
Shave and a haircut, shampoo

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Loads and loads and loads and loads and loads
I been up mad long

This song don’t make no sense
Most chicks I know don’t pay no rent
And on some G shit, my name’s Blu
I rock a halo like a California Angel
Knowledge deeper than Apollo or Plato
I’ll make gold rain down on your rainbow
Homeboy Sandman killed Drano
‘Cause he Mr. Clean with the washing machine
My Slaus lean, the awesomest things
No use talking to Blu if you ain’t talking green
Presidential marker versus Sargeant Slaughter ba-barging in your office with the barrel
Double barrel like a burger
Leave the beef murdered
Wake-waking n____s up with the word
My mother said I walked a mile ‘fore I ever fell
N____s need to wash they mouth with forever soap

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Loads and loads and loads and loads and loads
I been up mad long

I’m down for whatever
I talk to strangers
Stranger the better
My name hold weight without multiple trips
Look people in the eye longer than they comfortable with
My bad I ain’t give a shit when you tried to show me your iPad
Or when you tried to show me your iPhone
I be too caught up with shit I’m ready to die for
Switchblade picking my teeth
Stray pitpull licking my cheek
Nothing goes down on my watch
Super duper bad chick folding my wash
No eyelids
Bill collectors have no clue where I live
Pocket full of stickers and sweet dreams
I’m not only the president I’m head of the street team

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Billy K. Hicks

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