paroles de chanson Smithereens - EL-P
Fell
asleep
late,
neon
buzz
PTS
stress,
we
do
drugs
City
air
strange,
sticky
lungs
Mayor
Doomburg
gives
no
funds
And
I′m
crying
Call
out
with
a
fiendish
ring
Broken
into
smithereens
Everything's
exactly
how
it
seems
And
it
would
seem
that
I
am
crying
In
a
world
super
duper
whores
the
kids
just
want
a
little
more
Little
tycos
do
the
bloody
mind
sex
with
a
veteran′s
decor
And
I'm
crying
So
when
I
step
in
the
stop
frame
I
became
pure
BK
'Cause
I
grew
up
on
the
krazy
kings
and
inhaled
second
hand
spray
And
I′m
crying
Where
the
walls
talk
your
defiances
and
alliances
were
made
With
a
fugitive
dash
after
class
to
harass
the
gods
of
fame
And
I′m
crying
And
the
goons
that
I
collude
with
on
this
rude
shit
same
way
And
will
break
a
crab
down
in
public
just
to
manipulate
their
pain
And
I'm
crying
Why
should
I
be
sober
when
god
is
so
clearly
dusted
out
his
mind?
With
cherubs
puffing
a
bundle
tryna
remember
why
he
even
tried
Down
here
it′s
30%
every
year
to
fund
the
world's
end
But
I′m
broke
on
atlantic
ave
tryna
cop
the
bootleg
instead
Pure
savage
established
hard
rock
talk
circa
'93
proof
Walked
the
high
road
to
infinity
with
simily
truant
moves
When
the
wandering
ration
line
derails,
I
steal
food
Maybe
tread
where
the
sidewalk
hawks
look
alive
and
hide
tools
On
a
bed
that
someone
else
made
Tryna
wait
for
the
next
boot
And
it
drops
when
you
took
prime-time
hellemundo
off
mute
Old
folks
say
"time
to
build"
But
demolition
pays
more
loot
Rip
patch
from
your
hazmat
suit
Slip
past
with
an
odd
bop
(woop!)
El-Producto,
sorta
strange
They
say
he
stares
at
you,
long
range
Perhaps
he′s
looking
past
us
all
with
his
thousand
yard
gaze
And
I'm
crying
And
he
sees
how
MC's
became
contorted
with
their
own
lives
And
went
from
battle
rap
to
gun
talk
Like
we
ain′t
notice
the
change
(yeah,
right)
It′s
the
city
I
broke
down
in
The
velour
couture
township
Where
they
lost
the
rock
box
batteries
and
forgot
how
shit
was
founded
And
I'm
crying
Critics
all
see
me
twisted
They
don′t
get
my
whole
existence
An
actual
b-boy
brainiac
who'll
slap
you
out
your
mittens
And
I′m
crying
Now,
I
feel
that
motherfuckers
owe
me
dap
for
contributing
actual
raps
That's
not
a
construct
for
the
radio
on
that
plasticince
path
I′ll
be
your
homie
Bust
through
the
dolby
lonely
All
cast
aside
and
homely
Wildly
pour
chrome
eat
of
vigilante
words
Insert
hurt
in
a
dome-piece
And
the
last
of
all
I
have
is
yours,
now
surrendered
nice
and
calmly
As
a
tot
played
on
a
block
of
bricks
and
double
dutched
with
the
zombies
I'll
rip
your
squad
in
nothing
but
a
cock
ring
a
pair
of
puerto-rock
dunks
I
built
the
bag
that
cats
will
drown
in
when
the
water's
colored
rust
And
the
last
thought
that
I
had
in
the
back
of
the
little
bus
Was
of
a
Oklahoma
city
flair
through
kiddy
flesh,
fade
to
dust
Move
me
with,
little
soldier
bitty
We′ll
cloak
and
dagger
the
city
We′ll
hope
to
stagger
magnificence
till
the
pattern
of
blasphemy's
quitting
And
I
keep
my
meaning
tucked
deep
so
y′all
creepers
give
me
some
privacy
Don't
ask
for
something
literal
from
a
child
of
secrety
society
There′s
a
position
to
be
filled,
you
fucking
assholes
Keep
your
eye
on
me
But
save
your
precious
advice
'Cause
all
my
life
everyone′s
lied
to
me
And
I'm
crying
Fell
asleep
late,
neon
buzz
PTS
stress,
we
do
drugs
City
air
strange,
sticky
lungs
Mayor
Doomburg
gives
no
funds
And
I'm
crying
Call
out
with
a
fiendish
ring
Broken
into
smithereens
Everything′s
exactly
how
it
seems
And
it
would
seem
that
I
am
crying
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