P.O.S. - Let It Rattle lyrics

rate me

Sorry I took so long, yeah

There ain't nobody to be pretty for a fuck it, let it rattle

Let the clatter kill 'em, let the cataclysm wash

Who really listens? Precision with a verse draws a crowd

I draw a line between an easy melody and piece of mind

I keep the game tweaked, freak the same

To it's own thing, spit the plain pain

Econolines for the dime class, it's a goddamn recession

(C'mon) Show a little respect you Pfizer babies

Look at how they hate, pilled out, bounce they liver off they top eight

Who got a fix for the fix? Bush no more

Nobody's like Dufrane, search party of four

Tell me, who's eating? I mean well

Who's beaten shell toes kick a hole in who's cheating hell?

Need it while you can, serve, get swerved, get sleep

Buy it up c'mon, uh huh

They out for presidents to represent them

You think a president could represent you?

You really think a president would represent you? (right)

They call me P.O.S., bold from the go to the goal

To them ice cold bones, freezing in that Minnesota snow

Heating up the winter with the flow

They make it rain, rain, rain go away

Come again brave, or when you bring a bit to help us grow

(Meanwhile) We them pro parade-rainers

Presented by the Doomtree, sponsored by the Rhymesayers

No-brainer if you aim at the aimless

The same small change big drain on my patience

(It's) my act, my scene, my play, my stage

My lines, my way, all day, all style plus guts (c'mon)

Cap cut, no fresh, no clean, all press, yes mean

Swoosh, removed, lose the cool, choose whatever behooves the dude

Move through any mood with ease

Ravage the rules, ravishing mood, Randy Savage the fools

Handy with tools, cutting my own key

Cattle to meat, sheep splitter, kennel killer

Handmade handgunner, fanblade runner, huh?

Promise of skill, better than blessed, promise of stress

Living and breathing, motherfuck all the rest

Now what do you do... exactly?

N-not, not exactly like you don't do anything exactly

But more like, what exactly do you do?

They hide their eyes and can't describe what they been missing

They fire-blind and can't describe what they been laying down

They laying down

I can't tell if it's the bees or the sting

The honey or the wax on the wing

But people just Wall-Mart what they worth, roll back

They don't get to pick what you deserve

What exactly do you do Sir? (we serve)

What exactly do you do Miss? (we take)

Tell me who the hell are you? You're out of your element Donny, shut up

Double, double eat up, ride, the Dude abides