P.O.S. - Bush League Psyche-Out Stuff lyrics

rate me

(feat. Slug)

[Intro: Slug]

Auditon?

Yeah I got this...

Yeah I was at your show

Yeah... No I mean no I didn't like it

No I'm just saying I was there

And a... Doomtree!

You suck ha ha ha...

Alright... Cecil Otter, P.O.S., Sims

Dessa, whatever the fuck she calls herself

Paper Tiger, Swedish name for a Japanese punk band

Joe Mavin, you look like Alanis Morissette

[Verse 1: Slug]

Sometimes I feel like a bastard surrounded by fathers

Fasioning themselves to resemble action figures

Passing opinions across the pasture like we asked you

Like we have to have your last pieces gathered, like it even matters

Like we're trying to climb this ladder a little bit faster

Like I'd rather let the captain lead us into disaster (crash)

Like the bladder never adapted to laughter

Like I won't be the first rapper thats sent to your plaster casters

And after the new dawn is gone

My name is Sean, out on a lawn(?)

Put my songs in these coupons

I lost my soul and watched it drip down her futon

I lost my gardens(?) out of a bush that sprouts snook bombs

Now I'm looking for a word that don't exist

To help disrout this selfish pride that I hide inside this fist

We've arrived to loosen up this noose that keeps us lifted

And rip these stictches while I introduce this piece of...

[Verse 2: P.O.S.]

Yeah stand back (stand back)

Let me be the target, let your bullett hit, I'll handle that

Let me see you flex aggressive ignorance, see half these cats

Stagger like the simple common sense to put one foot before the other

Hop, trip, slip

Slid into home base base like you planned rehearse

Some kind of celebration dance, you got tagged at first

And kept running

Jumping the gun for what you got coming

Homie no handout's til' the pitcher hits you

Your acting like your stitches rippin'

I got nothing but what my crew and open folks are bumpin'

Trustin' their trust and feeling bastard for trusting their trust

So fuck it, everything else gets tugged under rugs

Til' I get something like a crowd of cats mumbling my words

Show me some heart, let me tug

(Slug: Give me a pound or a hug)

Hear the sound like a drug homie

Just free-based beats, life's cheap

If you live it right, right?

If the words are tight, might

Bright the head in the dark, kill the night ride(?)

[verse 3: Slug]

Stand back, no piggy backing with the mad mats

A mini apple road warrior give me that hand clap

From the hash back to amtrack to aircraft

Ransacked every city that the kids be at, the furgomack

Jumping hurdles that you carried in your back pack

The love curdles at the match books last act

Licking the stamps back just for physical flashbacks

The times of writing rhymes to get my cats and my plants back

They tell me I deserve to be happy, now doesn't seem valid

'Til we get rid of half of

How many are doing nothing but sucking on flavours?

I'm try'na edit the credits while their critiquing the trailers

So I'mma rant like theres something to say

Making up my own dance I'mma do it this way (watch me)

And I'mma try and take it all around the world

(While I'm out on tour keep your hand off my girl!)

[Verse 4: P.O.S.]

Sometimes I feel like the bastard son

Oh where the fucks my father

Like a shattered shoulder

Like the chick got smashed off my class

at the door with my shoes and my coat

So now I'm here again, I brought the clown, we came to rock the boat

I hold you down, you set them up

I'll set the bar and drive around

We'll let your style do the knocking, here's a pen go to town

Paint it with big broad strokes, I'll study your path

And hope your pride can take a joke when I say its dope with earcoats and laugh

Man I'm pleased to shit the ass

How can I add you up, devide your crew and still be horrible at math?

Now answer that and stay fasionable (just try it)

Go bash the bricks and stomp them ? kid the princess still ain't at this castle

Mr Of Course, the youngster hoarse from screaming on him

But shit, I toss the lozange quick and drop my fullbacks(?) on him

Turning teens into fiends from the beats to the bear hugs

I got the stuff to get some buying up the ear plugs

[Outro: Slug]

(Close up your ears... Close up your whole face...

This will melt your brain... Oozing

Oooo no... I wouldn't go outside looking like that... Ohhh dear...)