[Verse 1]
There ain't nobody to be pretty for, fuck it, let it rattle
Let the clatter kill ’em, let the cataclysm wash
Who really listens? Precision with a verse can draw a crowd
I draw a line between an easy melody and piece of mind
How is this? (Turn it up!)
I keep the game tweaked, freak the same
To its own thing, spit the plain pain
Econolines for the dime class, it's a goddamn recession
Show a little respect you Pfizer babies
Look at how they hate, pilled out, bounce they liver off they top eight
Who's got a fix for the fix? Bush no more
Nobody’s like "Dufresne, search party of four"
Tell me, who's eating? I mean well
Who's beaten shell toes kick a hole in who's cheating hell?
Need it while you can, serve, get swerved, get sleep
Starve again, buy it up, starve again!
[Hook]
They out for presidents to represent you (gimme some bucks!)
You think a president can represent you? (gimme some bucks!)
You really think a president will represent you? (right)
My name is P.O.S., bold from the go to the goal
[Verse 2]
To them ice cold bones, freezing in that Minnesota snow
Heating up the winter with the flow
They make it rain, rain, rain go away
Come again brave, or when you bring a bit to help us grow
Meanwhile we them pro parade-rainers
Presented by the Doomtree, sponsored by the Rhymesayers
A no-brainer if you aim at the aimless
The same small change big drain on my patience
(It's) my act, my scene, my play, my stage
My lines, my way, all day, all style plus guts
Cap cut, no fresh, no clean, all press, yes mean
Swoosh, removed, lose the cool, choose whatever behooves the dude
Move through any mood with ease
Ravage the rules, ravishing mood, Randy Savage the fools
Handy with tools, cutting my own key
And cattle to meat, sheep splitter, kennel killer
Handmade handgunner, fanblade runner, huh?
Promise of skill, better than blessed, promise of stress
Living and breathing, motherfuck all the rest
[Hook]
You out for presidents to represent you (gimme some bucks!)
You think a president can represent you? (gimme the bucks!)
You really think a president will represent you? (gimme some bucks!) (right)
My name is P.O.S., bold from starting fucking (?) fucking bones, fuckers! Hahah
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
