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P.O.S.:As I perspire through my pigmentFire a cigarette, sire some newnessDire corners stay dim litDim wits stickin to rugers,Slim kids sticking to coolnessBrollic youth'll get ruthlessFoolish will end up toothlessI slide throughDie when I'm lied to(lie back)Lay down, been dead, no salutesNo crowns, right?They yellin 'hurry up and buy,open your mouth and shut your eyes'and no one even acts surprised no more...Knowmore.orgSo sore no pores enough to supportwhat i need to flushAll we need is a rushAll we need is a dutchAll we need is some weed (wrong)All we need is a pushAll we need is a boostSongtexteWho can't handle the truth?All I need is these big black motherfuckin boots.Who are you?(On the move... on the move... Get a grip... Get a move on... )Cadence Weapon:Young man is a gargoyle, get thrown off the buildingAnd for a while, they all used to talk about buildingBut then the star, he got fired from the buildingThen he went from song billings to bomb buildingI made my dropCause you really used to get it, how you'd push it to the limit andthe kids vibe with itBut you stoppedParalysis averages made on the charts have waned in the daysSince you stoppedLike a Wilson brother, you would fill song covers in the bin'Til you get droppedThe well is dry, head is high for once until you dropBut you had nobody tell you, ?buddy, you should stop?Cautionary tale, auctions, every sale, so they can shopYour remains still remain even when you're in a boxWait to see him at wax museums for photo opsNo mas, no more, you were a whore for the propsThe lock's not off, it's still on, you sing songs, but the light inyour mind's turned offDeferred trust, rust never sleeps, why won't you just move off?(On the move... on the move... Get a grip... Get a move on... )B. Dolan:Don't we love the static?Fall back reset default automaticPause that,Borders intact, cemented, all stagnantStruck dumb, stuck to the floorRaw arroganceCollectible kicks, the broad spectrum is sickWe need more medicineless cough suppressant.Settled on a coffin fetishand worship of solid objectsIt's good to be hard but it's harder to be honestIt's nice to be smart but can you move an audience,draw a crowd or paint a picture?The temple sinks under the weight of scriptureThe false idols and fake honorsI admit I lost faith when they chained us to the monument;saw the waves raise to erase our accomplishment.We're not healthy, we're just heavy.You're not a Souljah Boy you're a mercenaryin a cryogenic sleepFighting windmills, locked up in a deep freezeFroze in a still pose and sold to the museumAcquired some new pieces butYou don't need 'emHand over the jewels.This is a robbery.Nobody moves. Aus Songtexte Mania