Oh, the Horror

I ain’t got a rap sheet
Just cause I rap, sheeeiit…
I rap peace
But peeps first assume when we meet I’m a athlete
When I answer back that I rap then they ask me
Where my fitted cap be?
When I was pumping crack, how come the cops couldn’t catch me?
When I was busting caps over cash, were there casualties?
I reply, «Um, not exactly,»
Followed by, «actually…»
¡Que horror! Están pensando soy un animal
Don’t come to be bout buying bud
Just cause I rhyme, bruh
Or if I’m blood?
Or if I’m crip?
Wondering which one’s my clique
Just cause I spit
I wish you wouldn’t assume I was a goon
Cause of my rap tunes
Or that I pack tools
Or that I act fool
Or that I left school
Or that my section’s a cesspool
And I hate homosexuals…
Don’t think that I’mma act rude
Just cause I rap, dude
That’d be a snafu
Really I be baffled
Cats think that I’m a buffoon
Or gon' act like a baboon
It puts me in a bad mood
Sponsors nervous like, «Yo, what is Sand doin'?»
Like I’m a snake or something
Slide out down the side of a sand dune
I’m sad, I’m saddled, status of Sambo
'til I give 'em a sample