P.o.s. - Music For Shoplifting lyrics

I write ryhmes then rhyme, right? Yea, that about sums it up But while some of them get crunk, I gets Stories and truths I share views See I, See why Crews choose the Fox News I see in CNBC See and be seen, rather shown It's crystal clear without a PCS phone P.O.S. is known for heart Spit from the home Put it to music, (heartbeats) And let you download the ringtone And from a broken home, stories are hard times pa**ed And in a broken home That ain't a breeze it's a draft Because the window's cracked It's where the heart is Broken or not, I won't turn my back Word of Grace though It's thanks for the womb and support Let's see that smile You ain't gotta worry no more We ain't gotta worry We tough And we can deal with whatever comes up This is for those who can't pay the rent Run out of toilet paper Find the Sunday paper Wipe your a** with the President This is for them thugs Who dealt crack, but stopped Cause they saw first hand, what crack does This is for all the artists Who know their work is just a drop in the ocean But do it anyway, hoping This is for everybody who carries the world's weight But stands up straight Put a hand up, Try to relate (Now.. we keep.. we keep candles around the Doomtree house now-a-days Not, you know, so much for like, prayer or anything, its more for When they shut the water and power off...) Now Is it the money or the past dues The switchblades or stab wounds Why's it always gotta be bad news, huh? Why's it always gotta be bad? You choose Want some new sh** Or fix what you have? See, Growing up, I shook the bobber on the poverty line But wait, I got away with the bait And to this minute I'm dealing with nightcrawlers who rule my ma** So what you think? New sh**, or fix what I have? A think of hooks Write lines in sync with the times Get fished in, caught by the decline I fought only to find I'm not right in the mind I'm left, I mean I'm fine Just not so f**ing blind Rather be forgotten Than remembered for giving in Refuse to lose my name like Senj. (He's a hero) Away with spirits, I am fear personified No place to hide if you're locked in your mind right? You ever feel like you've got a closet to clean? You can't find the key, you look but you lost the damn thing? You ever feel you know exactly where the f** it is, But don't want to see? Yea, me too I don't care where, just far right? I'm escape personified Drop the P from pride and hop in my car Just drive far I'm escape personified Drop the P from pride and hop in my car... So Run out of toilet paper Find the Sunday paper Wipe your a** with the President This is for them thugs Who dealt crack, but stopped Cause they saw first hand, what crack does This is for all the artists Who know their work is just a drop in the ocean But do it anyway, hoping This is for everybody who carries the world's weight But stands up straight Put a hand up, Try to relate That's a little rhyme, get that rhyme? I put that rhyme in Because quite often dropouts come in to catch the show Them dumba** dropouts like those rhymes