Homie

[Verse 1: Shad] If your city isn't on the map – gotta make tracks Like leave, and get love to take back Those who can do. Those who can't gotta face facts But I don't talk about haters, cause they hate that Funny – I'm that dude based mostly out of suitcase Arguing with airports about toothpaste I'm not quoting the Quran with a vest on And who the hell's ever made a bomb out of Crest Armed to the teeth {​​You owe me $5.99 dog}​​ West Jet said. Let the head rest recline on them So I'm cooling out, flying home through some cyclones Over time zones, sky shining like a rhinestone Real diamond mind full of fine poems Ya'll gotta dig when we dig, and then grind These refined coals Call 'em gems Call our friends when I land Back in Van. like “Dave! What's your plan man?” [Verse 2: Cadence Weapon] Mad international, Shad in the passenger Seat, on the beat, it's a blast like Plaxico Classical, panoramic scope, trans-Atlantic You could grab a boat, but I take a plane, take pains With everything I wrote, make sure it's sounding dope, Instagram photos Showing shows to the folks at home, and the span grows Make rap prose, rent a van, go and pack clothes Play some rap shows, get some cash, then go back home From British to the district I spit a sentence Be there in an instant for an instance so witness Here for a good time, not a long time With some good songs and it all rhymes, alright Pent up in the confines of a ride, just to bust out And share the confines of my mind Yeah, Dirt City, real city I rep Hit me up if you need a sublet, oh yes [Verse 3: Shad] Couple of MacBook bros making hot songs Over Hotmail. -- T dot com Back to the future. Kid with the faster computer brain Marty McShad is the username Skratch, we can do your thing. Hang like a dookie chain Master the craft, and laugh like it's pootie tang Lo. city rep. Flow gritty, plus so pretty Shoulder shimmying in my videos like the old Diddy Busy playing with me at my neighbours crib Bring some whiskey; they can sip and stay a bit Pray before I make the trip Labels wouldn't check for the kid. No babysit Now every stage is like home, and I'm playing it Hotel checkouts. Check out the passport Miles on the dashboard, and that was just last tour Now I'm back and I'm sitting 'till my back's sore Back at the house. You can catch me on the back porch