Lyrics The gut Homeboy Sandman

The gut

I never say never or die
I say nevermind, cats, lets try
Nickle and dime me, you and what army?
Used the simple mind, got fed up with nickles in the nick of time
That goes for Nickelbacks, that goes for nickle-nons
To think of drinking up the pickle brawn and never gotten bit
And listen what you watch, you cotton picking mind
I come to poke you like a porcupine
Face of poker, pop up like a Pokemon, c'mon
Or Papa San, pockets of the [?]
And frickin' rig the rule, I'm playing it cool like I'm the fucking Fonz
Uzi weigh a couple tons, aimed at Uncle Toms
So you can call me capitan more than a couple times

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say

Flying saucers, iron horses
Lying reporters, falsifying sources
Ignoring higher forces, life is all of this
Simultaneous, they tryna play with us
Just listen to your gut (gut, gut, gut)

I hope they say thank you and please, I speak Japanese
News of evenings of eating on frank and beans that cripple my faculties
And then when you factor in the fact that ration is worse than
Franken by a factor and three
My flap was flappin' in the breeze, nah, set ya free
Ball of scratching fleas
Either all in or you falling on your keis
Whatcha ma call it, what you call it
When you balling and you always getting teased
Or when you balling but you always getting tased
That's just like pulling teeth, when signs be out of sight and out of reach
Yo, honestly, get out the seat, go on up out this safe
Check on the guard that's either on the scene or getting sleep
SIck as a dog pissing on a tree and getting treats

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say

Philosophy, theology, astronomy, astrology
The individual filters the colony
Society, conformity, reality is none of these and all of these
Just listen to your gut (gut, gut, gut)

For never and always, I'm spreading the Hollandaise
Or living a modern day, hollow cave
I'm swinging a ball and chain at people that say that we are all the same
I'm shedding the harness, I'ma motherfuckin' artist, mane
Accepting the carnage was the hardest thing
God in my garden was the darndest thing
My armor needed varnishing
So now I'm straight into the heart of things
My heart sing, a member of the starting string
Who farts stink?
My favorite attribute's a heart and strength
My favorite art is woman, and my favorite part's pink
Your fella sell a [?] with the feather and the ink
No, it was overzealous, I'm selling umbrellas on the brink

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha say

Your man is saying you got some grams on the way in
Asking if you wish to participate in the mayhem
Your bank statement is saying nay, for you contemplating
Play it safe or chase papers in great denominations
Initially, your shit's amazing
Vast castle and cat flashes of vag in your face
You facing incarceration
You see your mothers pain at the [?]
Like what the fuck, I should have listened to my gut