Jered Sanders - Closed Caption lyrics
rate me[Intro]
I guess hate is the new love man,
Can you hear me?
It’s enough room in the room for both of us man
Whattup Tim
Shout out to DatDudeTim, yo
Make sure I’m good man
Shout out to Tef man,
Makin' me sound like a million bucks, yo!
[1]
I’m not your garden variety, Vidalia onion
But cut it up and bag it, the vernacular's pungent
I’m not your ordinary sammich in lunches
Or carry out, corner store baggy of munchins
I’m from the era of the baggy jeans rockers
Mom and pop record stores, shoddy with the lingo
Gold roll chain rockers, Karl Kani jean suit shoppers,
You don’t got it, you polly with the gringos
I’m still drillin these holes like a Black and Decker
Preach to reach em like a Pappy’s lecture
Speak to Jesus like a Baptist repper
Breath and sneeze it like a crack of pepper
I’m hot dog, grab a pack of ketchup
Maybe clap and applaud the montage
I rap raw God, you rappin with raw garb
Yo, garb is close and short garbage
If you heavy on the stench, toss it and wash off
Two can play the game of love
Plenty of room for the both of us
One of two, the eyes can view
Plenty of room for both of us
Maybe I can rhyme or two
Plenty of room for both of us
One or two, the eyes can view
Plenty of room for both of us
Closed caption
I’m too advanced, like a graphic calculator to an abacus
And y’all bars too low to reach my average
Speech too sloppy to polly with my advocates
Your reach too cocky to spot me from your chariots
Your steez too broccoli, to prolly think of lariats
Too much arrogance, too much variance
Too many rash actions, too fixated on math classes
Tragic
[2]
I ain’t your garden variety English
I’m a pocket square, two cuff links distinguished
Stacy Adams with the square toes, snake skin, silk tie euro cut
Pressed up from the cleaners, genius,
Ya'll spit, minimal knowledge
Illiterate garbage,
Kicking that non sense
Hitting the innocent targets
Mentioning rawness, when you all bout as timid as field mice
Soft as light skin-ded Debarges
I prolly ate a few free school lunches
'Fore the YouTube, knew a few cool tool busters
For your new shoes, fossil watch, cock ruge, clutch it
And they'll run up in your neighborhood like school busses
Packin a mac or 5th, and you dash in the fastest whip
Smacked with the back of fist like a 70’s action flick
I’m from the era where the bars mean something
If you don’t speak it, then it don’t mean nothing
Keep em coming like that ya'll
Two can play the game of love
Plenty of room for the both of us
One of two, the eyes can view
Plenty of room for both of us
Maybe I can rhyme or two
Plenty of room for both of us
One or two, the eyes can view
Plenty of room for both of us
Closed caption
I’m not your garden variety black man
I’m trynna blow up like a spiritual afghan
A plaque man'll prolly justify the need of sleep
Power nap, turkey sandwich, back to the beats
Yo, the rap’s cold compared to them trap flows ain't it
Your eyes closed, your mind blown, and the shine stainless
Still, here reppin for the pencil pushing notebook scribblers
No hitting agendas cuz, just old passion
I wanted you to feel my truth
Cut the beat out, clip it and spin it in close caption
Gorgeous.
Thanks to CC for correcting these lyrics
