1,953,855 Pages

Get Smokes

This song is by P.O.S. and appears on the album Never Better (2009).

Watch video at YouTube
Get smokes, we ain't got bodegas, we got gas stations
Choke steady, rock, ready for whatever, pops
Split the surface like machete chops
Better lost, quick to toss directions

To a trash can anyway, slash fast getaway
Crash whatever path and stop
Whether it's caskets or gas hits last drops
I'll stash whatever math I've added in a basket and bury it
You let 'em pull the wool, I'll pull the chariot faster

Lungs like California raisins
Singing some kinda blues version of "Search and Destroy"
I'm talking Stooges, weathered tissue and bruises
Iggy raw, respect or step back, cute is what we aim at

I'm on some Ichabod Crane raps
Scared of the headless gaps in any audience maps
Exactly where I'mma buckle the whole frame
Knuckles up the ruler is coming to measure
The rudiments of your struggle by the inches, quit bitchin'

Keep building, sheep sleep still, shepherds don't peep dreams
Reach till it's real, thoughts breach seams
On a 59/50 clipped bill, keep the uniform wrecked, trends kill
Necks bend still when I step, bend steel when I flex head
Kneel to the next near never

No kings ever, nope
Sever all that
Just rap

Just a hair too abrasive for a nation on soft
Dirty when the style ain't bringing the Bomb Squad
Density irritate, diggin' in the crates full of sodium nitrate, like this
Burnt up my fingertips

Roof's on fire
Fine just let me get in and find a warm place to sit
It's fucking freezing out. Who got a cigarette?
Who's got an ove glove and a hard hat for me?

All I got is dirt on the jeans, ash in the cuffs
Scuffs on the skate highs
Keep 'em laughing at us, trust
Trust that I make knives that will land in your guts
If your touch is not welcome, pacified pacifist seldom

Someone took the nook, keep yelling on 'em
No telling what'll happen if you pass the fifth
And keep your flash pasteurized
Mine's like fresh outta the tit, ick

Schick sharp, shards for darts
Promise of skill, arms up, guard your heart
For real, high crime, low art
Protect your neck face, satan's bride

Sparks for the underground, ash for the waste
C'mon, take down clowns in the fake crowns
Sound the loud siren, get off my island
Doomtree crew to consume the loose silence
Fill it to the top with the liggy-liggy-live shit

Written by:

Stefon Alexander


"Search and Destroy" / Stooges / Iggy raw / Ichabod Crane Wikipedia16 / Doomtree Wikipedia16

External links