Del The Funky Homosapien Lyrics
"Sleepin' On My Couch"

It seems nowadays friends step to me bogus

and end up on my couch at night without notice

it's cool to have a friend over every now and then

but I gotta have my space

and I don't wanna see their face

like every single day of the week

talk is cheap

you betta find yourself another place to sleep

it ain't my fault that ya moms got fed up

and now you wanna come to my crib and wet my bed up

you better find a job so you can get an apartment

and you can save your crocodile tears

don't even start

with the sob stories

I got enough from the other seven brothas

in the den playin' Genesis

damn I can't win at this

seems like I'm gonna have to flip

and tell those other brothas

that they're gonna have to skip

I've had it up to here with these lazy cats

sleepin' on my couch and I'm tired of that

[Chorus]

People come to my house

and kinda wonder where the squadron's at

they're not gone

they're just down at the laundrymat

because they wear the same pairs of clothing

I'm taking up crazy patience just holding

my temper

I'm about to start charging rent for

every single brother

that kicked it with my mother eating biscuits

on Saturday morning like a family

the minute they step

it's like moms is crazy mad at me

'cause they're in my mother's room watching television

I feel like giving 'em the boot

and say the hell with 'em

but if I give 'em the boot

I'm not a friend though

even though my room

smells like dime bags of indo but

I can't pretend like I haven't been peepin' it

even mom knows that my brothas been sleepin'

on my couch for weeks

so your speeches fall flat

sleepin' on my couch and I'm tired of that

[Chorus]

Maybe this was just my upbringing perhaps

but I was taught that I shouldn't

take seven day naps

at other brothas' cribs like I don't have a home

brothas on my couch so much there's like foam

coming out the seams

and a pair of jeans is missing from my closet

I wonder why I even bother being friendly

they're running my ass like the Indy 5000

they went and wrinkled my mother's blouse

when they snuck downstairs

for a midnight snack

and ate the last slice of bread

and a box of apple jacks

then they hit the sack

with the stereo blastin'

and even little Tyson is fed up

so I'm askin'

you all to jet

before I get upset

and throw each and every one

of you bums out on your back

my house is a mess

so step ya little pest

who was sleepin' on my couch 'cause I'm tired of that

[Chorus]