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lyrics

I take my time with it | I take forever | sick of working that clever | let’s skip ahead to the next | pushing my own limits | I’ll make it better | ain’t no one touching my future | ain’t no one fucked with my old shit yet | ain’t shit inspiring since last we met | can’t forget that Doomtree crew | got style we spit that space cadet | that dumb that make that place forget | they worry let they reason wiggle clean | we come in bent with the smooth criminal lean on some... | at $10 a pack I might as well resort to robbery | while rappers try to act like their labels advance them money still | and acting rich in a shaky and fake economy might make the indie kid at the award show snatch a chain and peel, | yeah | They front so hard them fuckers they can’t even look in my eyes, naw | they on some nonsense we on some non stop | simply put I’m on some over it | underwhelmed cigarette | bark at some fully afflicted nerds | tryna mix martial art me | can’t go two blocks | all you do is win huh? | boner jams, | spam | let em spar with the end | imma lash at them | animus cannibal pugilistica spit | future unwritten | let my pen wrangle it | manhandle nonsense | can’t fake away your fangs sucker | leach but you don’t sting pest | fade cause you can’t hang | I came to play|Icametorock|Icametostay|theycamesosoft|can’tlookaway|myrockersoff|out the box | in your itunes out your mouth | in with the next shit | out like a get away car | yeah

credits

from We Don't Even Live Here (Deluxe Edition), released October 22, 2012
produced by P.O.S

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