There must be some kinda way outta here
There must be some way outta here said
The joker to the thief
There must be some way outta here, this place

Said the clown to the crook
There's so much hustle and bustle
So much disgusting and, my man, its got me shook
See, th

Ash in the cuff, dents in the whip
Juice in the cup, scuffs on the kicks
Trash in the clerb, never tryna mix
It's a drag how some of these people live
Ima get a little wiggle in it anyway
'Til I had enough
Spillin' every drink man, fuck your stuff
Not sorry, never a l

Mister of course
AKA of course we can pause
In the sleep walk
Of doin the rock
The days I be out___
I'm feelin a little groggy
But yeah I remember now
What? Back to the hunt
The individually wrapped servants now
Suck the fuckin' life out of 'em!
Packaging

Break Down, the walls in your head, until you
Break Down, not tears instead, you need a
Break Down, on your page and pen stay to you to really hold a
Break Down, on the stage

I'm talkin... ta ta tata ta
I'm talkin feelin' every single one of you in this room
I'm talkin

P.O.S.:
Yeah, million-dollar baby girl in the lower middle class
With a Maglite right beneath her pillow
And no, she's never been a boxer by choice
She's known to act oak, he'll never catch her a willow, nuh
She the calm type, you see the small scars
Creeping down her arm

It's been a bit; you look a little sick
You got the vibe of a ghost and I'm not equipped
But I can host, or I can drive
And a ride might be right, just hit the gas and crash
Tonight, must have been a beast
I bet you still rock a sweater in the heat, right?
And you can sta

I take my time with it
I take forever, so sick of work and that clever
Let's skip ahead to the next
Pushin' my own limits
I make it better
Ain't no one touching my future
Ain't no one fuck with my old shit yet
Ain't shit inspiring since last we met
Can't forget th

Auditon?
Yeah I got this...
Yeah I was at your show
Yeah... No I mean no I didn't like it
No I'm just saying I was there
And a... Doomtree!
You suck ha ha ha...
Alright... Cecil Otter, P.O.S., Sims
Dessa, whatever the fuck she calls herself
Paper Tiger, Swedis

Yeah
You can't start every song with a Yeah!
But it's cool whatever
You think I'm shocking joke
It's like a, an after shock you know?
Yeah I took something and exactly what
Tryna make one of those like oh get one
They come back yeah? Haha

Yeah!
We drop dime

I am P.O.S.
I be the new generation of slaves
Here to make papes off this land corporation's rape
From that life I'm tryin' to separate
But I guess I'm livin' dreams cuz my rent's always a month late
Product of an East German Black
Who kissed the neck, of a pretty woman

I guess you never knew,
Dear boy, what you had found,
I guess you never knew,
Dear boy, that she was just the cutest thing around.
I guess you never knew what you had found,
Dear boy.

I stepped in, my heart was down and out,
But her love came through and brought me

[First Verse]
In fuzzy focus, he sees downtown
A blue pick-up that's kinda rusted
Mystery formed a process of pain with faces dusted
Or a red cap to a crack vial in front of a crack pipe
He sees a cat on it's last life
A Father, never mistaken for a dad
Never mistaken

I'm building my house
Out of time, out of place
Out of step, out of phase
Get out of the way
Or line up, or give a hand
No plan, just guts
No command
We just understand
The jig's up
We grew up on songs and held on to the ideals of our idols
It's hard to no

My whole crew's on some shit
Scuffing up your Nikes, spitting on your whip
Kicking out your DJ, rock it then we dip

Looking out the window like Malcolm
Just when I thought this culture was open they go and doubt him
Fuck, dumbing it down, spit ice, skip jewelry
Molotov

Lungs like smoke stacks
Young black terror attack
Hair on their neck raised
Scaring them back
Keeping my Kerouac first rate
They in the first grade
Begging like babies
Gimme gimme wah
We too dirty man
Shimmy shimmy ya
Skinny bars, naw
All cents no penn

[sample]
Well, some of you might be sayin' like they tryin' not
to like us
But we want you to know we good

I am a gun

[Verse 1]
Okay frustration takes a fat cat
And slows 'em down like a bullet forced through layers
of disgusting Biggie Smalls fat
Still ge

(Ah)
I can not see through no dumb shit (nah)
I will not give out no pass
Waste ass mother fuckers breathing in my air
And I know even tho I don't wanna that they'll prolly outlast

So I'm hanging out the window (yeah)
Got my feet up on the dash
Face fulla sunshine

The desparation stay-the-same
Grip tight on the riegns
Smoke lights by the chain (I try)
You won't find no let up with my remains
Not caught dead settling
No black sweater, slacks
Or shoes with any pennies in
Ephederine shake
A steady hand ready to drive
Steak

First of all, Fuck Bush
That's all, that's the end of it
Second, give it up to R.S.E. for hookin' up a kid
I got the two best, the newest plus the truest;
Doomtree, Rhymesayers Entertainment (You know the name!)
Rip the quality control, from your burrows to your borders
D

I am a handmade handgun
Operated by paper crooks
Loaded up with bullets of blank pages torn from your little black book
You can call me all your favorites
Oh, I love those dirty looks
You know I'll be drunk and waiting on the steps of St. Anthony's Church

Knuckle-blood