Garden Gnomes Lyrics - Sage Francis

(I'm over time) 

Welcome to my life (welcome) 

Welcome to my life (welcome) 

Welcome to my life (welcome) 

Welcome to my life where everybody wants to cipher 

They've never held a mic, but they swear they nice, 

'cause they boys told 'em so 

and surely enough they suck my dick in front of they girlfriend like 

"Look, this is how you do it, you gotta fuckin' do it slow then fast, slow then fast, 

eat that shit", check-check 

If this is you, you're not alone 

This world's a rock of drones 

Girls flock like birds 

Cause they heard lots of poems from the mystery man 

When my name gets spit it echoes 

Straight-laced people say grace with evil smiles 

I'll stick to Velcro 

Let go of these claims I hold true 

This is Sage, don't say I ain't told you 

Fake gold tooth 

Real problems with garden gnomes who talk shit 

My respect's the best bargain known to the consumin' market 

So pay me it 

To my love-hate relationship with love-hate relationships 

Makes me rich 

My old lady thinks that I done did it 

But I done didn't 

Save my breath during dramatic movie endings hold the stub of the ticket 

When credits roll I'm heading for the exit hole 

Your track record is such a short shelf-life bless its soul 

It's about you, all about you 

That's probably why you don't really respect it or know how to 

Fuck a fickle fan base, stuck a middle finger in they damn face 

Does the pinnacle of my hand taste dirty like the suggestive gesture 

You're best to drop out the school of hard knocks 

Get murdered by stress and pressure, pressure-cooker 

I leave the party with a mass amount of assed-out demo tapes to butcher 

"Could ya give it a little bit of a listen, bro?" 

Into - "do me a favor and play it on a big system though" 

Into - "give me a detailed critique of my hot shit" 

"Sure thing boss, I'll get right on it" 

Oh hell no he didn't, oh yes he done did my friend 

Think he was so very special among the hundred thousand 

You play the fence, your flow is weak and your concepts suck 

It makes no sense, slow to speak - your logic's fucked 

You made no dents over beats that got lots of cuts 

Noise you do have toys like you stocked with Tonka Trunks 

You're not a lone, this world's a rock of drones 

Who rock microphones and abuse generous ears 

With the "yeah, yeah . . . off the dome" 

You're not a lone, this world is stocked with clones 

And my dear Watson's are coming to bite a style near you 

You best for sure lock your homes 

You best for sure lock your homes 

You best for sure lock your homes 

You best for sure lock your homes and beware, 

Beware the garden gnomes.