Get Smokes - P.O.S

Vocals are extra loud

Thanks, Jessie!

Here!

What I’m saying’s intangible!

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 anyway

Okay

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 pull the chariot

Faster, lungs like California raisins

Singing some type of 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)

Haha, aw, forget- hah-

I’m on some Ichabod Crane raps

Scared of the headless gaps in any audience

Maps exactly where I’mma bucket a whole frame

Knuckles up, the ruler’s coming to measure

The rudiments of your struggle by the inches, quit bitching

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 kill

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 a hair too abrasive for a nation on soft

Dirty when the style ain’t

Bringing that bomb squad density when irate

Digging in the crates full of sodium nitrate

Like, «tss-» Ow!

Burn up my fingertips

Roof’s on fire.

Fine, just let me get in

And find a good place to sit, it’s fucking freezing out

Who’s 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 that I keep- tch- that’ll 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 pass the fifth

And keep your flash pasteurized, mines like fresh outta the tit

Ick, Schick sharp, shards for darts, promise of skill

Arms up, guard your heart, f’real

High crime, low art, protect your neck

Face sparks to the- (Oh my god!)

No time to waste

Take down, clowns in the fake crowns

Sound the loud siren, get off my island

Doomtree consume the loose silence

Fill it to the top with the «digguh-digguh-digguh-digguh» live shit