CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : GOLDEN SARDINE
[R.A.P. Ferreira]
Head honcho in a poncho like Bob Kaufman
Ancient rain from the tonsils
Boil the coconut rice, I tear the cilantro
Heard y'all still experiment with dirty Henny
Me, I publish the City Lights like Ferlinghetti
Lusty stare, your boy paid to open the door like concierge
I no longer count the years
You've grown accustomed to acting from fear
Good laugh in the mirror
Silence follows cunning, rice pot humming
Nod off like a loose fez
The Howdy Doody guitar player gets suplexed
He not right, might pop like Enoch Light
No subliminals, knowledge at intervals, it's a rare science
In a cave with several dark thoughts and a clear mind
Have blues, will travel, a horse with no name, no saddle
Purse big enough to post bail and skedaddle
My projections are astral
Stormy weather copacetic, Bojangles asthetic
Tiptoe leverage
What's mine is in my mind
What is the price of glory, fire in the conservatory
What's mine is in my mind
What's mine is in my
Bubble goose
Money flow four-fold like noble truth
Green lung coughed, fill the coffer
Slow menace stalker, when a negotiator's not a talker
Times of peril is always hella awkward
I know what you're pondering
And I keep that portion of the mind roped off from wandering
It smell of pomegranate, pears, soil
How they acts like they're unaware of toiled repetition
Make it meaningless, or is that the creation ritual
Space station habitual, the great ape made individuals
Them cut off from they roots, nah we not in cahoots
But there's an understanding, which is all one could ever ask for
Consider this my resignation from the task force
Consider this my resignation, consider this my resignation
What's mine is in my mind, what's mine is in my, yeah
And it's like that, and that's the way it is
What is the price of glory, fire in the conservatory
I'll pull that six-shooter out on him real quick, yeah
Reach for the sky, yeah, reach for the sky
Head honcho in a poncho like Bob Kaufman
Ancient rain from the tonsils
Boil the coconut rice, I tear the cilantro
Heard y'all still experiment with dirty Henny
Me, I publish the City Lights like Ferlinghetti
Lusty stare, your boy paid to open the door like concierge
I no longer count the years
You've grown accustomed to acting from fear
Good laugh in the mirror
Silence follows cunning, rice pot humming
Nod off like a loose fez
The Howdy Doody guitar player gets suplexed
He not right, might pop like Enoch Light
No subliminals, knowledge at intervals, it's a rare science
In a cave with several dark thoughts and a clear mind
Have blues, will travel, a horse with no name, no saddle
Purse big enough to post bail and skedaddle
My projections are astral
Stormy weather copacetic, Bojangles asthetic
Tiptoe leverage
What's mine is in my mind
What is the price of glory, fire in the conservatory
What's mine is in my mind
What's mine is in my
Bubble goose
Money flow four-fold like noble truth
Green lung coughed, fill the coffer
Slow menace stalker, when a negotiator's not a talker
Times of peril is always hella awkward
I know what you're pondering
And I keep that portion of the mind roped off from wandering
It smell of pomegranate, pears, soil
How they acts like they're unaware of toiled repetition
Make it meaningless, or is that the creation ritual
Space station habitual, the great ape made individuals
Them cut off from they roots, nah we not in cahoots
But there's an understanding, which is all one could ever ask for
Consider this my resignation from the task force
Consider this my resignation, consider this my resignation
What's mine is in my mind, what's mine is in my, yeah
And it's like that, and that's the way it is
What is the price of glory, fire in the conservatory
I'll pull that six-shooter out on him real quick, yeah
Reach for the sky, yeah, reach for the sky
