Buck 65 - Sunday Driver Lyrics
I walk the earth quietly,by day carry a net.With no strings attached,to a magic marionette.See there's so little time leftand yet there's so much space.Thinking why don't you give me a call later onso we can touch base.I swim across the seven seas,and follow the sounds of handclaps.And just try to keep my ballsout of the sand traps.Because before I go on live,all my enemies try to contriveplots to make my whole entireroutine take a swan dive.But this ain't commercializedhip hop or indie pop.Nah, this ain't the mashed potato.Uh-Uh,this ain't the windy hop.The dance that goes with thisis called the keep perfectly still.Before your brain becomes burnt out,like cheap circuitry will.Lately I've been spending almostall my nights with my hands full.Between writing my rhymesand my fights with the Man-Wolf.I'm building a better mousetrapand plus a wider fence.Because I trust my instinctsand follow my spider-sense.
