Lyrics Sick Pout - P.O.S

Sick Pout

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