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P.O.S.
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Terrorish
Dont let em get a handful see em with a handle of jack
Or crossed fingers on the hands behind their back
With a knack to trust then disrupt
Lose trust then change the rules up
And whos up for tax cuts? (crime pays)
Hidden estates with like, really long driveways
Crime pays rats in the hallways
Aim for the crack fuck minimum wage (so it goes)
Anyways sippin on a dry gin heavy headed living in and out of my skin
And living livid but glad for the chance (at all)
Glass fulla gas with a rag in the other hand wild like the Taliban
Wild like a child slapped in the grin
Black be the skin packed fulla carbon and starving again cmon
Theres eyes in the back of my head
Hold up the buck stops disintegrating here (yeah right)
The fear generators here yall (warmer)
Deviating clear past the consumer
Room for improvement trade space with some doom and gloom
Renovate with the renegade skate like the centigrade dropped
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Consider the cold copped like a motorcade
And roll away contagious and infect the vacant
Good the fuck gracious gotta debase the basic erase the face lift
Taste a bad case of the breaks and heal gotta create the makeshift
Swagger like its yours and debate whatever you dont feel
And dont come knock knock who there? Boo Boo-whoing
Live a little better than a bad joke who ruins?
Chew through your wrist come on lets do it lets go
Theres eyes in the back of my head
I want them blinded I want them blinded
But if I find the man who put my foot in the sand
and other heavy hearts
Make it impossible to cleanse his sin
so unforgettable so unforgettable
Theres eyes in the back of my head
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