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Pieces​/​Ruins

from by P.O.S

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lyrics

[P.O.S]
Same dude new guts
Literal and figurative lost a couple fucks
Shit, alright fine, alright I gave em
Came a lotta way to play the cooler than awake game shucks
Got me
Thumper on the raglan
Johnny on the spot with an ill fitting magnum
Guns look dumb on chumps like me
No funds no fun don't move won't see

DayQuill NyQuil zzQuil sleep till
Peace fills ill hearts
Beats gone keep still
Yeah
Guess what
Stefs nuts
Crazy

Best luck
Chest bump
Fist can't fade me

Kicking out canes
Candy from the babies
Jumping off the top ropes
Screaming no kang me

Chandelier swangin
Table flipping OG
Pinky up sipping on a surly doomtree
What's up

Same shit different animal
Same food whole different kinda cannibal
Lost on the moon
Your dude resides southside

Northeast
northside

Yeah
Alright
Downtown
Roof top
Waiting on the sky to fall

But I ain't heard the last of yalls
Wolf cryin
Alligator tears
With your eyes wide

Waiting for the sky to fall

Eyes wide can't see
Vision all burgundy
That or all green
Intentions all slithery

I keep mine fine tuned on the next move
tryna dodge the sky

[Chorus]
My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins

My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins

They been left in ruins
All of the places we love have been left in ruins
All of the places we love have been left

[Dynell Roland]
i switched up my zone
its nothing but clones
swimming thru society
just learning my own
carving a legacy in this rock
but who really knows
kicking in doors
while shooting past all of my goals
horoscope couldn't tell you
what the hell im do
everything a murder case
but what do i lose
i prove
snipers on the roof
breath in lets resume
took a gamble
while my life was in shambles
ill never lose
ring the alarm
panic look how they panic
shit runs loose
Dancing on walls
scramble to get thru
playing with fire devil on my ass
but not wired
wireless to bullshit so connection runs wild
never fragile speak easy
believe me
I wont get boxed in I'm not a damn tv
i need that and some
shuffle the deck and watch me land them
Doing backflips with life I hope i Stand them
Or stand me
Energy looking just like a stampede
While everything is vanishing
I hope they can find me

[Chorus]
My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins

My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins

They been left in ruins
All of the places we love have been left in ruins
[Busdriver]
I can tell a spell with the hood on my back
I can ball out and take the goods of the rack
even though my father figure hooked on crack
I can get it done

jumping thru hoops as economies slump
vomiting them chunks cuz the ambience sucks
dangling the clotheslines on elephant tusks
I can get it done I can get it done
I wear a helmet cuz the square is hellish
Declare the felt tip
as a way to definitely upset adults
I turn the swag to an electric pulse
turn it up about a megavolt
as you read a post
yeah she had that singing voice that could melt dead bolt
but her singing in the ear always gets the best results
we use to make read that new new soaking in Epson salts
but now the hood is different and the the yuppies want the special sauce,
I read insults...
from the OG's bio what a mouthful
when we write the laws it's poetry by council
Sitting with my fork, and my dinner plate and knife
thinking I can do more than just entertain whites, my spite

blood-sugar mixing thru the sugar cane'll lubricate the cotton gin
the dollar bin is full of rain
I've got a couple black geniuses in the bullet train
bumping them big words shooting out the woodgrain

[Chorus]
My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins
My hood ain't the same no more my niggas say no more all of the places we love have been left in ruins
They been left in ruins
All of the places we love have been left in ruins
All of the places we love have been left

credits

from Chill, dummy, released January 27, 2017
Vocals by P.O.S, Busdriver, and Dwynell Roland
Produced by Cory Grindberg

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