P.o.s. - Get Smokes lyrics

Published

0 324 0

P.o.s. - Get Smokes lyrics

Get smokes, we ain't got bodegas, we got gas stations Choke steady, rock, ready for whatever, pops Split the surface like machete chops Better lost, quick to toss directions To a trash can anyway, slash fast getaway Crash whatever path and stop Whether it's caskets or gas hits last drops I'll stash whatever math I've added in a basket and bury it You let 'em pull the wool, I'll pull the chariot faster Lungs like California raisins Singing some kinda blues version of "Search and Destroy" I'm talking Stooges, weathered tissue and bruises Iggy raw, respect or step back, cute is what we aim at I'm on some Ichabod Crane raps Scared of the headless gaps in any audience maps Exactly where I'mma buckle the whole frame Knuckles up the ruler is coming to measure The rudiments of your struggle by the inches, quit b**hin' Keep building, sheep sleep still, shepherds don't peep dreams Reach till it's real, thoughts breach seams On a 59/50 clipped bill, keep the uniform wrecked, trends k** Necks bend still when I step, bend steel when I flex head Kneel to the next near never No kings ever, nope Sever all that Just rap Just a hair too abrasive for a nation on soft Dirty when the style ain't bringing the Bomb Squad Density irritate, diggin' in the crates full of sodium nitrate, like this Burnt up my fingertips Roof's on fire Fine just let me get in and find a warm place to sit It's f**ing freezing out. Who got a cigarette? Who's got an ove glove and a hard hat for me? All I got is dirt on the jeans, ash in the cuffs Scuffs on the skate highs Keep 'em laughing at us, trust Trust that I make knives that will land in your guts If your touch is not welcome, pacified pacifist seldom Someone took the nook, keep yelling on 'em No telling what'll happen if you pa** the fifth And keep your flash pasteurized Mine's like fresh outta the tit, ick Schick sharp, shards for darts Promise of sk**, arms up, guard your heart For real, high crime, low art Protect your neck face, satan's bride Sparks for the underground, ash for the waste C'mon, take down clowns in the fake crowns Sound the loud siren, get off my island Doomtree crew to consume the loose silence Fill it to the top with the liggy-liggy-live sh**