Sick Pout

Album cover art for "Sick Pout" by P.O.S.

P.O.S. - Rap

Sick Pout

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Lyrics

Motherfucker I'm a mess I'm a creep No fresh So me repping Doomtree Home team in your city or mine We world wide (What's yours like?) Life's so ill So true, so will Counting that paper Spend it on bills Naughty By Nature Counting my kills Plotting that caper Leave em in chills With a sick pout and let em sweat it out It's that I forget em and let em find a better route For them, for me it's all walls to the ground 'Til I fall 'til I'm down I will never let em doubt From the back of the back Passing the black mirror Here homie you hold that I reflect as a reflex Living like a bomb threat Take it out of context Yes yes, fuel on the flame Fame in the backseat, shotgun aimed Fight til I'm lunchmeat Haunt from the grave And watch the ghost Mafuckas won't play Baxman batshit Taxman casket Two guarantees I never cared to clash with What you want a goodie goodie more? If all the fun is illegal then what the fuck are we here for? Nah, pack a bag hit the gas We don't even live here If it's only one lane pass If it's only one game quit Only one life this is it Why you trying to fit? We freak out squares We Minnesota vice we don't care You're living by the price We don't dare Yeah fucker we out here

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