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Half-Cocked Concepts

This song is by P.O.S. and appears on the album Audition (2006).

Watch video at YouTube
First of all, guck Bush
That's all, that's the end of it
Second, give it up to R.S.E. for hookin' up a kid
I got the two best, the newest plus the truest
Doomtree, Rhymesayers Entertainment (you know the name)

Rip the quality control from your burrows to your borders
Droppin' hot emcee's off balconies like Tony Rocky Horror
The, uh, the baby-danglin', words hanglin'
Hottest masturbatin' off the back of the neck of my soldiers' rhyme and

P.O., you know the dirty one disturbing categories
The matador in black, killin' bullshit allegories
Provide the hurt, these other beastly storing stories make em'
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up

I spray terms like throw-ups, I'm 'bout to spit a feelin'
'Cause me and Turbo Nemesis are soon to be arthritic villains
Still instillin' hatred, laced with manifesto modes
And our backbeat's to beat your heartbeat off beat, let's go

Excuse me
Just turn it on, and leave it runnin'
Macin', nothin' of gunnin'
Nothin' linin' our pockets
We frontin' like Cool Runnings

Somethin' so simple sparkin'
We wait, but nothin's comin'
Chrome in our fingertips
They eat shit, like faulty plumbin'

Just games for days, busy bees makin' our honey
And skee ball tickets still on count, it's real money
It's somethin' so ridiculous, funny, so fuckin' sick of this
Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

Still I'm sittin' skits and laughin' while they all missin' this
There's still songs about bitches from 9/11 witnesses. (ha ha)
So here I am in the Middle West
The heartland ma'fucka, sippin' whole milk ma'fucka

Our nights are colder right?
Minnesota nights, but our frostbitten fists
For the smile stings twice so um
Fight or flight, who gives a damn anyways?
So make a fuckin' difference in these apathetic names

(I tell 'em) Lean back, just relax, we tell 'em
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up

We don't dance, we just pull up our pants, and then we
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up

What, you want something like a cake? Want a Guinness or somethin'?
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up

Somethin' so ridiculous, funny, so fuckin' sick of this
Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

You look sick, homie eat a gun (I tell you (haha))
I'mma eat a gun
I look tired, it's probably the insomnia
I sleep like Tyler Durden
Stickin' feathers in your ass does not make you a chicken

Holla if you hit the bottom runnin'
A fool among the scholars
Bumpin' somethin' about clubs, bumps and hubs
I got a message in a bottle, written in gas and oil
Signed with a rag and a match, here catch

Slap to rebel yell
The rebels fell, embedded in brick
Ain't no fuckin' marble memorial
For pissed-off kids waitin' for desperate shicks
Like Bronson, ain't got enough to flip his face to vigilance again

Once it has been, the fifth amends
Barely our friends, who think about what's up with Jen & Ben
Once it has been (I think we should put up in this-Fuck outta here!)
Let's get out

Lean back and relax, we tell 'em
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up
Put the ma' fuckin' Fresca down
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up
Damnit with the blood
Get Up
Get Down
Get Up
And Get Fucked Up

Somethin' so ridiculous, funny, so fuckin' sick of this
Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they listenin'

Goddman, Joe
You like Fresca?
You're fired
You're fired too

annotations:

Bush Wikipedia16 / Doomtree Wikipedia16 / Rhymesayers Entertainment Wikipedia16 / Tony Rocky Horror Wikipedia16 / Cool Runnings Wikipedia16 / Guinness Wikipedia16 / Tyler Durden Wikipedia16 / Bronson Wikipedia16 / "his face to vigilance" Wikipedia16 / Jen & Ben Wikipedia16 / Jen & Ben Wikipedia16 / Fresca Wikipedia16

External links