Do you think if you were falling in space you would slow down after a while Or go faster and
Faster and For a long time you wouldn't anything Then you would into fire forever And the angel's help you 'cause they've all gone away
Un, dos, un, dos, tres,
I saw this kid walking down the I was wait
Bumped into this kid I knew, he often would walk So I ignored the blood on his laces so cat could save face The dunks and the gaze in an off gray haze And the lump in his pocket to the ox that he clutched safe
So I saluted him there, for the A on the empty platform without the option to escape Gave him the standard, yo, up man, how you landin'? And the hypnotized response was no surprise, I
Yeah, we all do, that's the standardized refrain but on real man, good to see you, really, what the dealy deal? Oops, fuck, screwed the pooch, too much, knew the truth On the train now, a caboose in his brain now, no
80 blocks to uptown spot, vocal booth Metro-card like, you get you pay for stupid, no excuse He pulled his hoody off his cabbage practical And began to the words I mistakenly jostled loose
The stogie he brazenly lit he sit looked legit But when the flame touched to the tip I could smell it's of nit He leaned his head back and inhaled the dip and said "The whole design got my cryin' if I'm lyin' I'm dyin', shit"
This is the sound of what you don't killing you is the sound of what you don't believe still true This is the of what you don't want still in you TPC motherfucker, cop a or two
This is the sound of you don't know killing you This is the sound of what you believe still true This is the sound of what you want still in you TPC motherfucker, cop a or two
The whole design got my cryin' The whole got my mind cryin' if I'm lyin' I'm dyin' Dyin', I'm flyin', the line, no disguise, guy, I'm bent up Know the sky's high by coincidence and I'm tied insignificant To the ground function I'm Munsoned, it's the dreaded split again
The made it out to be, epidemic shaded wow for me Evidence of pressures mounting, residential shroud, King's Brotherhood of the working wounded, wounded working unit Taking out the and strappin' in, let's get it movin', stupid
Many men make moves useless Use abuse quick, losers, Bitch, either speak the truth or you toothless Two fists of the furiously Justice for my own amusement with no regard for the conclusion
I swagger with tappin' the glass in a Gov. lab Pass me the gloves, mask and flask of the liquor you have In the back of the Tasmanian path, insane laughin' at the randomness of the city and all its facts
The dark art of interrogation agent class And at last in a on my tip toes walkin' on cracked glass Gats and wiz by fast or just catch in my calves like hold that In words, I'm trash, glad you asked
is the sound of what you don't know killing you This is the sound of what you don't believe true This is the sound of what you don't want in you TPC motherfucker, cop a or two
This is the sound of what you don't killing you This is the of what you don't believe still true This is the sound of what you want still in you TPC motherfucker, cop a or two
future's uncertain here now The plot smears on the wall, Said, your future's here now The plot smears on the
Your future's here now The plot smears on the wall, Said, your uncertain here now The plot on the wall
Your future's here now The plot on the wall, wall Said, your future's uncertain now The plot on the wall