Sand Don't Wash Off - 6 Verse Director's Cut

Lyrics

[Intro: Waves, reversed piano, Female hum: Ooooh...]
Male Vocal - low calm
Yeah... Pacific... so be specific...
Kingpin outside... Sandman coming from the sand... the land...
Head honcho... I'll be your Sancho... the big boss...
Shoutout to the ocean... smoking on a wet cigarette... still lit...
Beat drop - hard knock

Verse 1: Male Vocal
Puddle to the Pacific, walked through the storm with a wet cigarette, flame never quit,
Sand in my boots, salt in my lungs, thirty eight laps, I been through it,
From the pier to the border line, same block, same bench, never switched,
Kingpin outside but I move like a ghost, you hear the waves? That's my script,
Head honcho, I'll be your Sancho, but only if you solid, only if you legit,
Wicked and dark, calm and collected, vet status, I don't gotta convince.

Hook 1: Male Vocal + Female Hum
[Female hum: Sand don't wash off... Pacific...]
Sand don't wash off, sea in my blood, smoking on a wet cigarette in the flood,
I'm from the Pacific so be specific, they ask where I'm from? That puddle to the mud,
Kingpin outside, big boss, why they watching like they never seen hustle?
Shoutout to the ocean, it raised me, it paid me, it taught me to struggle.

Verse 2: Male Vocal
Morning and nights, same tide, same lights, same price on the strip, I clock in,
Ghetto vet, thirty eight years posted where the water kiss the concrete lip, locked in,
They whisper 'bout the wave, I let the ocean do the talking, I don't trip, I just listen,
Puddle to the deep end turned a young boy to a man who don't slip, who don't miss,
Sandman from the sand, the land, footprints fade but the name remains etched in stone,
Head honcho with a calm face, heart cold, but the code never stretched, never blown.

Verse 3: Male Vocal
Smoking on a wet cigarette, even soaked, even pressed, still lit, still fetched,
Seacoast mornings, border nights, same wick, same grit, same flex,
Feet wet, game known, I walked that puddle to the ocean with no vest,
Why they huddled up? Why they buzzing? Cause the real ones know who reps,
Kingpin outside, not inside, I like the rain, I like the pain, I like the test,
Thirty eight years and the tide still know my alias, that's respect.

Hook 2: Male Vocal + Female Hum
[Female hum: Ooooh... sand don't wash off... big boss...]
Sand don't wash off, sea in my blood, smoking on a wet cigarette in the flood,
I'm from the Pacific so be specific, why they confused? I'm clear as the coast,
Big boss outside, head honcho, why they flocking? Why they toast?
Shoutout to the ocean, it made me, it saved me, from coast to coast.

Verse 4: Male Vocal
From a puddle in the alley to the Pacific in my chest, that's distance,
Ghetto vet with a wet cigarette, still burning through the mist, that's persistence,
They want the formula, I give 'em silence, let the water give 'em wisdom,
Sandman coming from the sand, the land, I don't appear, I just risen,
Kingpin outside, head honcho, I'll be your Sancho if your heart is in it,
Thirty eight years, specialist, veteran, calm, but I still spin it.

Verse 5: Male Vocal
Feet wet, game known, every step from the curb to the current counted,
Puddle to the ocean, I didn't swim, I waded, I waited, I mounted,
Why they all in a frenzy? 'Cause I'm from the Pacific so be specific, I announced it,
Wicked and dark in the background, but smooth on the front, I bounced it,
Kingpin in the mist, Sandman in the dust, no cape, just a hooded jacket,
Head honcho, big boss, I don't chase clout, I just leave it where I found it.

[Verse 6: Male Vocal - Outro Verse, slowest]
Thirty eight years and the sand still stuck to my skin, it don't wash off,
Smoking on a wet cigarette in the rain, still lit, watch how the flame cough,
From Seacoast to the edge, DNA in the sand, you can dig it, you can scoff,
Kingpin outside, Sandman from the sand, the land, this ain't luck, this is cost,
Head honcho, I'll be your Sancho, big boss, but I walk alone when the tide is off,
Feet wet, game known, puddle to the ocean, ghetto vet, forever.

[Outro: Waves, Female hum fading + Male whisper]
[Female hum: Sand don't wash off... Pacific...]
Sand don't wash off... I'm from the Pacific so be specific...
Kingpin outside... Sandman coming from the sand... the land...
Head honcho... I'll be your Sancho... smoking on a wet cigarette... shoutout to the ocean...