[Verse One]:
Sand, you a hard brother to figure out
Recitin' Roots verses takin' curses and "n***a" 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

[Hook]:
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
[Verse Two]:
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

[Hook]:
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
[Verse Three]:
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...