| If you think that no one’s looking
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| If you think that no one’s listening, babe
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| Then you’re ahead of the game
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| No machines, no funerals
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| No plugs to pull, this is my living will
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| And it all seems beautiful
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| Let it go, on with the carousel
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| Any day in a daze in the grey in the dirt
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| With a foot on your neck and your teeth on the curb
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| Lotta debt, lotta work
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| No check, lotta hurt
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| Lotta thoughts, big drop, no net
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| No safe in your speech
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| I’ll take trouble with me
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| I know when I’m beat and I can’t separate these
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| This route, these tries, are mine
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| This mission forgets sleeps
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| This mind, it’s mine, I’ll own this manic, yeah
|
| That miss-step that’s mine
|
| That rough wake that’s mine
|
| This might be it
|
| And it all comes back
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| Trust, dodge, aim away
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| Circus rigging, games played
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| Clutch cover, sick lay
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| Let’s get nervous, let’s get nauseous
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| Meds for the life, dead to the headache
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| Dead to the cautious here for the sedate
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| To wake 'em and skate and take names
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| Make patience the standard, no pain
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| I’m a man with a matador mind man damn
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| And the plan is to blow the door wide man, yeah
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| I’m a mess, I’m a creep
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| No fresh, so me
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| I’m a troubadour here to underscore the other side, yeah
|
| And it all comes back
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| Only got the two choices
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| All day every
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| Stay hushed or make noises
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| We’re made to break
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| Let’s test the old limits
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| We got us, big drop, no, let’s go
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| I’m suffocating
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| I know when I’m beat
|
| But I can’t separate these
|
| This route, these tries, are mine
|
| This mission forgets sleeps
|
| This mind, it’s mine, I’ll own this manic, yeah
|
| That miss-step that’s mine
|
| That rough wake that’s mine
|
| This might be it, this might be it
|
| Got my scheme bag, keys in hand
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| «Peace» in the note, ten bucks and a plan
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| Thieves out of chance
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| Give a reason, glance
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| Leave, ghost
|
| No luck til you make it
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| Sleeves to to the elbow
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| Grease to the hello
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| Ease in, please give a call to my pops
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| Tell him hell froze
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| Tell him I’mma see an end, but no before him
|
| Big drop, no net, no
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| Out of your reach
|
| You’ll never catch me
|
| I know when I’m beat
|
| But I can’t separate these
|
| This route, these tries, are mine
|
| This mission forgets sleeps
|
| This mind, it’s mine, I’ll own this manic, yeah
|
| That miss-step that’s mine
|
| That rough wake that’s mine
|
| This might be it |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Piano Hits, artist - P.O.S. Album song WDELH/MDS/RMX, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп