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Infinite Scroll

from Chill, dummy by P.O.S

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lyrics

[Open Mike Eagle]
Awestricken my brow
Furled up my lip is curled
All distant
Need a referral for a different world
Audacious my instinct is to go and get small places
Fuck your lease, I don’t owe you shit
Outlandish
I get low and I hover there
Not Branded, cause if they could
They'd discover air
Rain Walrus, under a pelt like a brother bear
Stone Fragments trapped in air tight tupperware
Who’s missing
The headcount says minus 1
Dude, Listen
Priest, my mouth is a science gun
Intrepid
Below ice like the submarine
Bin section looking at old tight drum machines
Mixed potion
Hoping to grow like thumbelin
Your shits broken
So watch me roll like tumbleweed
Old Patterns
Breaking interrupt duplicates
No data
Blank your concepts toothless
Its done


[Chorus]
Yeah
I am a
Dead men walking
And the streets ain't talking
Cause they busy talking to they phone

Favoriting they problems
Liking all they causes
Can't help feelin alone

I'm tryna live it while I can
Feeling every feeling
Every feeling I can stand

Unplugged
Unstuck
(Instead a)
Unwound
And undone

(Head down
Thumbs up)
Instead of

Lost in the infinite

[Manchita]
Woke up flat broke in a back seat
Low-ball recalling til I choke down the caffeine
Throbbing in my back when I feel the Earth beneath my feet
Life’s no beach, it’s a rabid dog in heat
And I’m not your hostage, I’m hot potato—hash you out later
Not now, I’m way too gone for the page you’re on
In fact I burned the whole book like my next high depended on it

Batting fat lashes at the casting, ranting,
“Save the fucking dolphins, you guys,”
While I mash a tuna sandwich
Fables never sounded so rounded and pounding,
Never wound down, never found out
Who’s counting, who’s down with us
Should be obvious not a network mess
I guess that’s why my cuticles uplift in upset for the present unkept
Tenderness of my fleshiness
Dead with the swelling of this particular winter’s discontent

[Chorus]
I am a
Dead men walking
And the streets ain't talking
Cause they busy talking to they phone

Favoriting all my problems
Liking all my causes
Can't help feelin alone

I'm tryna live it while I can
Feeling every feeling
Every feeling I can stand

Unplugged
Unstuck
(Instead a)
Unwound
And undone

Lost in the infinite

[P.O.S]
Ugh
Compare myself to who?
Skitching on this mother ship
Rock with a champion crew
Fit with this other shit
Ouwnt even know what they do
I ain't tryna learn
It's servant shit I never knew
I'm a

Professional profession skipper
Never been a job I didn't quit
To hit a stage an rip it
Get it in

Get in to it
Better with this
Off the map I'm
Ten and twoing
Keep it movin
Constantly

Keep that foolish off a me

possibilities are literally limitless
But got the screen like inches from your vision
Man that scenery is written text

Tryna knowledge up this girl
Who's talking to her phone tho
Typing hella awkward
Bout some other chick she don't know

Hate the hand dealt
Self help
Through
Selfie therapy
Play the feels felt
With your digital self
Aimlessly

Only dramatic people
Utter no drama
Butter nutting the beef
They only seem to keep a pounda

credits

from Chill, dummy, released January 27, 2017
Vocals by P.O.S, Open Mike Eagle, and Manchita
Produced by Cory Grindberg
Additional bass by James Buckley
Additional backing vocals by Lady Midnight

license

all rights reserved

tags

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