Half Cocked Concepts

P.O.S.

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    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
    Droppin' hot emcee's off balconies like Tony Rocky Horror
    The, uh, the baby-danglin', words hanglin'
    Hottest masturbatin' off the back of the neck of my soldiers' rhyme and
    P.O., you know the dirty one disturbing categories
    The matador in black, killin' bullshit allegories
    Provide the hurt, these other beastly storing stories make em'

    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up

    I spray terms like throw-ups,
    I'm 'bout to spit a feelin'
    Cuz me and Turbo Nemesis are soon to be arthritic villains
    Still instillin' hatred,
    Laced with manifesto modes
    And our back beat's to beat your heart beat off beat
    Let's go

    Excuse me
    Just turn it on, and leave it runnin'
    Macin', nothin' of gunnin'
    Nothin' linin' our pockets
    We frontin' like Cool Runnings
    Somethin' so simple sparkin'
    We wait, but nothin's comin'
    Chrome in our fingertips, they eat shit, like faulty plumbin'
    Just games for days, busy bees makin' our honey
    And skee ball tickets still on count, it's real money
    It's somethin' so ridiculous,
    Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
    Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

    Still I'm sittin' skits and laughin' while they all missin' this
    There's still songs about bitches, from 9/11 witnesses. (ha ha)
    So here I am in the Middle West
    The heart land ma' fucka
    Sippin' whole milk ma' fucka
    Our nights are colder right?
    Minnesota nights, but our frost-bitten fists
    For the smile stings twice so um,
    Fight or Flight
    Who gives a damn anyways?
    So make a fuckin' difference in these apathetic names
    (I tell 'em)

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    Lean back, just relax, we tell 'em
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up
    We don't dance, we just pull up our pants, and then we,
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up
    (What, you want something like a cake? Want a Guinness or somethin'?)
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up

    Somethin' so ridiculous,
    Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
    Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

    You look sick, homie eat a gun (I tell you (haha))
    I'ma eat a gun
    I look tired
    It's probably the insomnia
    I sleep like Tyler Durdan

    STICKIN' FEATHERS IN YOUR ASS DOES NOT MAKE YOU A CHICKEN!

    Holla if you hit the bottom runnin'
    A fool among the scholars
    Bumpin' somethin' about clubs, bubs, and hubs
    I got a message in a bottle
    Written in gas and oil
    Signed with a rag and a match
    Here Catch!
    Slap to rebel yell
    The rebels fell, embedded in brick
    Ain't no fuckin' marble memorial
    For pissed-off kids waitin' for desperate shicks
    Like Bronson, ain't got enough to flip his face to vigilance again
    Once it has been, the fifth amends
    Barely our friends, who think about what's up with Jen & Ben
    Once it has been (I think we should put up in this-Fuck outta here!)
    Let's get out

    Lean back and relax, we tell 'em
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up
    Put the ma' fuckin' Fresca down
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up
    (Damnit with the blood!)
    Get Up
    Get Down
    Get Up
    And Get Fucked Up

    Somethin' so ridiculous,
    Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
    Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

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