[Verse 1: P.O.S.]
Check it out, sit-sit-still-I'm-sit-sittin
Sittin crooked like the scene sucks
Mean mugs aiming at my style like I'm clean from the face up
They probably treat me like I'm scored from the neck down
Urn full of clowns, no worth for them burn down
No disrespect, see I've observed them before
Both the words and the work
All hustle, no heart
They all hard, no hope, no scope to me
I'm all work canned out
P.O.S., even in the mix, even in the sticks, Midwest
"Easy with them bricks, we got kids where we live" shit
And I don't care how you feed yours...(?)
(?)...a little more than greed like explore, like shit
And respect my Clay Davis brains for days
Claim the same, remain aimless
And I ain't talking about getting a sweet Blow-J, Fucker
I am talking about reading
Like books
[Verse 2: PeeGee 13]
Lip-service spit circular when the shitstorm spiral
Lineup so sizable it's viral
We airborne toxin tutelage
So toot your little airhorn often and play possum for music biz
If bitches really ain't shit like the song went
Then bitches are good, or being shit is a compliment
The kid is just a monument to nuance
The nuclear option, nary a nincompoop could want some
The barn burn him behemoth, the weeds were barely illegal
In a speakeasy sippin a snifter or a speak-no-evil
There's bittersweet in a sentiment semiautomatic for the people
That's semiautobiographical as seen through a tenement keyhole
Young Cardigan, sleepwalking in
Degenerates conversations again
Friend, this is your awakening
Be it smelling salts or assault and battery
You're susceptible to supplemental tragedy
Check it out, sit-sit-still-I'm-sit-sittin
Sittin crooked like the scene sucks
Mean mugs aiming at my style like I'm clean from the face up
They probably treat me like I'm scored from the neck down
Urn full of clowns, no worth for them burn down
No disrespect, see I've observed them before
Both the words and the work
All hustle, no heart
They all hard, no hope, no scope to me
I'm all work canned out
P.O.S., even in the mix, even in the sticks, Midwest
"Easy with them bricks, we got kids where we live" shit
And I don't care how you feed yours...(?)
(?)...a little more than greed like explore, like shit
And respect my Clay Davis brains for days
Claim the same, remain aimless
And I ain't talking about getting a sweet Blow-J, Fucker
I am talking about reading
Like books
[Verse 2: PeeGee 13]
Lip-service spit circular when the shitstorm spiral
Lineup so sizable it's viral
We airborne toxin tutelage
So toot your little airhorn often and play possum for music biz
If bitches really ain't shit like the song went
Then bitches are good, or being shit is a compliment
The kid is just a monument to nuance
The nuclear option, nary a nincompoop could want some
The barn burn him behemoth, the weeds were barely illegal
In a speakeasy sippin a snifter or a speak-no-evil
There's bittersweet in a sentiment semiautomatic for the people
That's semiautobiographical as seen through a tenement keyhole
Young Cardigan, sleepwalking in
Degenerates conversations again
Friend, this is your awakening
Be it smelling salts or assault and battery
You're susceptible to supplemental tragedy
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