[First Verse]

I write ryhmes then rhyme, right?

Yea, that about sums it up

But while some of them get crunk, I gets

Stories and truths

I share views

See I, See why

Crews choose the Fox News

I see in CNBC

CNBC and other shows

It's crystal clear without a PCS phone

P.O.S. is known for heart

Spit from my whole

Put it to music, (heartbeats)

And let you download the ringtone

And from a broken home, stories are hard times passed

And in a broken home

That ain't a breeze it's a draft

Because the window is cracked

It's where the heart is

Broken or not, I won't turn my back

Word to Grey Storks(?)

Thanks for the room and support

let's see that smile

You ain't gotta worry no more

We ain't gotta worry

We're tough

and we can deal with whatever comes up

This is for those who can't pay the rent


[Chorus]

Run out of toilet paper

Find the sunday paper

Wipe your ass with the President

This is for them thugs

Who done crack, but stopped

Cause they saw first hand, what crack does

This is for all the artists

who know their work is just a drop in the ocean

but do it anyway, hoping

This is for everybody who carrys the world's weight

But stands up straight

Put a hand up, Try to relate


[Second Verse]

Now

Is it the money or past dues

The switchblades and stab wounds

Why's it always gotta be bad news, huh?

Why's it always gotta be bad

You choose

Want some new shit

or fix what you have?

See, Growing up, I shook the bobber on the poverty line

But wait, I got away with the bait

To this minute

I'm dealing with nightcrawlers who rule my mass

So what you think?

New shit, or fix what I have?

A Finger hooks

Right lines in sync with the times

Get fished in, caught by the decline

I fought only to find

I'm not right in the mind

I'm left, I mean I'm fine

Just not so fucking blind

Rather be forgotten

Than remembered for giving in

Refuse to lose my name like Sanjay (he's a hero!)

Away with spirits, I am fear personified

No place to hide if you're locked in your mind right?

You ever feel like you've got a closet to clean?

You can't find the key, you look but you lost the damn thing

You ever feel you know exactly where the fuck it is, But don't want to see?

Yea, me too

I don't care where, just far right?

I'm escape personified

Drop the P from pride and hop in my car

Just drive far

I'm escape personified

Drop the P from pride and hop in my car

So


[Chorus]

Run out of toilet paper

Find the sunday paper

Wipe your ass with the President

This is for them thugs

Who done crack, but stopped

Cause they saw first hand, what crack does

This is for all the artists

who know their work is just a drop in the ocean

but do it anyway, hoping

This is for everybody who carrys the world's weight

But stands up straight

Put a hand up, Try to relate


[Outro]

That's a little rhyme, get that rhyme?

I put that rhyme in

because quite often dropouts come in to catch the show

Them dumbass dropouts like them rhymes