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Artist: Homeboy Sandman
Album:  First of a Living Breed
Song:   4 Corners
Typed by: artist/label (taken from digital booklet)

[ VERSE 1: Homeboy Sandman ]
New York stories and vignettes
I'm still yelling out front, they ain't let me in yet
CSI: Criminal Intent
If you make the wrong left or right someone gon' write you a chin check 
Feeling froggy? Leap, or find you a princess
Try to get you a kiss, light you a incense
Heaven sent, but move secular in a sense
Boy Sand on the set, protecting the innocents
I'm just listing the rules
Supernatural, international without enlisting no mules
Bros and sisters tryna convince me I should listen to mutes
I be missing at the mixer, I be missing the muse
Tell you the truth
Holding rallies in the allies how we rally the troops
We know all the chutes and ladders, ain't a badder platoon

So lemme hear applause for the 4 corners
Of course
The chorus for the 4 corners
4 corners

[ VERSE 2: Homeboy Sandman ]
I'm not an X's and O's coach
I just go for the throat
I just go for broke
That's my only approach
Can't hold me, I'm like the holy ghost
Holy smokes
Rolling stone
Where papers are supposedly for rolling stoags
I'ma roll these scrolls
Metrocard or paying these tolls, you gon' pay these trolls
Has anybody heard of Tony Robbins or Joel Olsteen?
That's a Hell nah, cats are tryna blow off steam
Notebooks without subjects, just random work
In knapsacks that are subject to random search
That's how the coppers work
Since ain't no one the coppers serve I be the Papa Smurf
They'll have my family in the paddy wagon after improper search 
And have the dragon breath and need to pop a Certs


[ VERSE 3: Homeboy Sandman ]
It's hot enough to catch a tan under grey skies
Cradle to the grave, it's all relayed through the grapevine
Even though I wonder if the bomb-sniffing canines
Gon' meet me at the pearly gates I'm having a great time
Catchers in the rye beware the batters that steal signs
Best to grap a Whopper, sit and watch it in real time
Cameras all on the wildlife
Zooming in, zooming out
Move 'em in, move 'em out
I wake up in rush
Can't afford to take a second, keep forgetting to brush
These girls be out already naked enough
Remind me of that reggae record "Tempted to Touch"
My mans be never up for breakfast and lunch
In his crib be all you see is Dr. Pepper's and blunts
Kept his lady though she covered up his pecker with bumps