P.O.S. - Sick Pout lyrics

Motherfucker I'm a mess i'm a creep
No fresh so me repping Doomtree
Home team in your city or mine
We world wide (What's yours like?)
Life's so ill so true, so will
Counting that paper spend it on bills
Naughty By Nature counting my kills
Plotting that caper leave em in chills

With a sick pout and let em sweat it out
It's that I forget em and let
Em find a better route
For them, for me it's all walls to the ground
'Til I fall 'til I'm down I
Will never let em doubt

From the back of the back
Passing the black mirror
Here homie you hold that
I reflect as a reflex
Living like a bomb threat
Take it out of context
Yes yes, fuel on the flame
Fame in the backseat, shotgun aimed
Fight til I'm lunchmeat haunt from the grave
And watch the ghost mafuckas won't play
Baxman batshit taxman casket
Two guarantees I never cared to clash with
What you want a goodie goodie more?
If all the fun is illegal then what
The fuck are we here for?
Nah, pack a bag hit the gas
We don't even live here
If it's only one lane pass
If it's only one game quit
Only one life this is it
Why you trying to fit? We freak out squares
We Minnesota vice we don't care
You're living by the price we don't dare
Yeah fucker we out here