P.O.S. - Matador lyrics

I Self Divine in this motherfucker

I feel like a matador chasing
Bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop

I was a fiend i used to twist bags of trees
Use the bitch
About to smack you with a bag of bees
We watch you scream mark it up as a casualty
Plan the hit, and walk away casually
I'm on some shit, I'm losin it gradually
I'm a bastard with no father and no family
Overlord, stab niggas with a rusty sword
Stillborn, choke off the umbilical cord
You got rocks and I'm standin
In a glass house it's your move but instead
These niggas pass out
You ain't built for this
Livin in your mom's house
Claimin you gangster
But you chaps with the ass out
Let's keep it real when it's time get gully
This no part time, commit to it fully
The means disconnect from kids and reality
I'm in town but I treat her like I'm overseas
This get stupid ignorant to the utmost
That means anywhere, anytime the buck flows
Rap battles used to be where
You walk and live
It got gruesome now they talkin
Bout your mom and kids i lived a life
Seen niggas truly lose they life
I made the sacrifice
Left in the nick of time
With drive-bys in broad daylight
Now is that right?
If it's on I can't return to my normal life
I seen niggas that I'd know
Were snitches and hoes
Flip the script and get thugged
In they street clothes
Now I ask if you're really just actin'
Or gettin' punked all your
Life and start snappin
It ain't a problem 'till it's made mine
Facepaint grab your helmet cause
It's game time i'm a cool
Calm nigga and I know where my power is
I know my weakness

The damage to your ego is a stepping stool
For self respect issues see, you's a speck
I go berserk
A Talibangelist frantically planning schemes
To block and split the scene
With a tube sock full of hemlock sippin
Seein' CNN is on
Peepin' Patriot Actually lower class fuck a
I went from poverty to lower lower class
To lower class to upper lower class
To gettin' past the bullshit
Same fuckin pants and skippin
Class no bullshit
Punk Rock livin the Clash, the misfit
Mr meticulous, slickin sick with the syllabus
Spittin the
Polish it enough to keep them listening to us
Precision is a plus but honesty's a must for
Emily Bloodmobile to beat
The speakers til they bust through
We got style that's rust-proof
Flat black over tarmac mate
You motherfuckers need a nappy
You know you toss and turn
Tryin to sleep on me so cut the crap and
It happens every time
(Swear, if I had a dime)
See, I'm lookin' for peace of mind
You're looking for a dime piece
To give you mind you're on some bad dad shit
You and for real using echo
Like some bunny men
I press on, I'm beat harder than step songs
I treat father like each one of his last sons
A whole lotta nada my soul's hella hot
I stay loaded like cannon fodder
Aimed at you prima donnas
I play the matador instead

I feel like a matador chasing
Bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
One plate breaks another gets put
Right in it's place
I feel like a matador chasing
Bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
One plate breaks another gets put
Right in it's place