Mr. Dibbs - Smithereens (Stop Cryin') lyrics

Fell asleep late, neon buzz PTS stress, we do d** City air strange, sticky lungs Mayor Doomburg gives no funds And I'm crying Call out with a fiendish ring Broken into smithereens Everything's exactly how it seems And it would seem that I am crying In a world super duper who*es the kids just want a little more Little tycos do the bloody mind s** with a veteran's decor And I'm crying So when I step in the stop frame I became pure BK Cause I grew up on the krazy kings and inhaled second hand spray And I'm crying Where the walls talk your defiances and alliances were made With a fugitive dash after cla** to hara** the gods of fame And I'm crying And the goons that I collude with on this rude sh** same way And will break a crab down in public just to manipulate their pain And I'm crying Why should I be sober when god is so clearly dusted out his mind? With cherubs puffing a bundle tryna remember why he even tried Down here it's 30% every year to fund the world's end But I'm broke on Atlantic Ave tryna cop the bootleg instead Pure savage established hard rock talk circa '93 proof Walked the high road to infinity with similarly truant moves When the wandering ration line derails, I steal food Maybe tread where the sidewalk hawks look alive and hide tools On a bed that someone else made Tryna wait for the next boot And it drops when you took prime-time hellemundo off mute Old folks say "time to build" But demolition pays more loot Rip patch from your hazmat suit Slip past with an odd bop (woop!) El-Producto, sorta strange They say he stares at you, long range Perhaps he's looking past us all with his thousand yard gaze And I'm crying And he sees how MC's became contorted with their own lies And went from battle rap to gun talk Like we ain't notice the change (yeah, right) It's the city I broke down in The velour couture township Where they lost the rock box batteries and forgot how sh** was founded And I'm crying Critics all see me twisted They don't get my whole existence An actual b-boy brainiac who'll slap you out your mittens And I'm crying Now, I feel that motherf**ers owe me dap for contributing actual raps That's not a construct for the radio on that plasticince path I'll be your homie Bust through the dolby lonely All cast aside and homely Wildly pour chrome eat of vigilante words Insert hurt in a dome-piece And the last of all I have is yours, now surrendered nice and calmly As a tot played on a block of bricks and double dutched with the zombies I'll rip your squad in nothing but a co*k ring a pair of puerto-rock dunks I built the bag that cats will drown in when the water's colored rust And the last thought that I had in the back of the little bus Was of a Oklahoma city flair through kiddy flesh, fade to dust Move me with, little soldier bitty We'll cloak and dagger the city We'll hope to stagger magnificence till the pattern of blasphemy's quitting And I keep my meaning tucked deep so y'all creepers give me some privacy Don't ask for something literal from a child of secrety society There's a position to be filled, you f**ing a**holes Keep your eye on me But save your precious advice Cause all my life everyone's lied to me And I'm crying Fell asleep late, neon buzz PTS stress, we do d** City air strange, sticky lungs Mayor Doomburg gives no funds And I'm crying Call out with a fiendish ring Broken into smithereens Everything's exactly how it seems And it would seem that I am crying