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Picture Perfect

from POORBOYRICHKID by POORBOY RICHKID

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lyrics

Winos with their eyes closed
Wonder where the time goes,
And you know you can't rewind so,
That little shell will stunt your minds growth,
Climb slow up the high road,
Undermined to find gold,
We're living with our blinds closed,
And this hell has won and I'm sold.

Set it to scorned I'm trying to defy the norm,
Colon: talk shit about conforming then conform,
A stale crucible, find a job that's suitable,
To your lifestyle tell yourself anything is doable,
But, behind the scenes your voice is mutable,
Cut out all that life is beautiful shit,
People that have a chance to say something say nothing,
Their silence is deafening, my ears are a curmudgeon,
Oh the humanity, we can't speak candidly,
and have it heard word for word, it's a calamity,
Sanity is a vanity, I'm walking a red carpet,
Littered with starving artists, in a target market,
And I'm so hungry I should be Hungarian,
Red, white, and blue pills, picture perfect American,
I hunt through the cabinets, my fingers are magnets,
Old habits live for ever give me a catalyst.

Winos with their eyes closed
Wonder where the time goes,
And you know you can't rewind so,
That little shell will stunt your minds growth,
Climb slow up the high road,
Undermined to find gold,
We're living with our blinds closed,
And this hell has won and I'm sold.

I'm sparking a revolution of lowered expectations,
Check, check, centered on excess,
Anything worth doing is worth doing in it,
There's fewer minutes for you to get it,
No limits, high stakes,
Migrate to the city let your ears dilate,
Head first in the fire, now you're inspired, great,
You need an outlet, reasonable doubt met,
How do you get over butter without bread?
Post-modernist, I'm in my prime like Optimus,
And won't get recognition until the work is posthumous,
If that, pop pills like tic-tacs,
Mix that with a six-pack and a bag of mishap,
Get your chips smothered in government cheese,
When there's nothing in the cupboards to eat I get my supper for free,
Self-righteous vices roll the dice hit,
Seven, eleven, or heaven nothing is priceless.

Winos with their eyes closed
Wonder where the time goes,
And you know you can't rewind so,
That little shell will stunt your minds growth,
Climb slow up the high road,
Undermined to find gold,
We're living with our blinds closed,
And this hell has won and I'm sold.

credits

from POORBOYRICHKID, released November 22, 2012
Music and singing vocals by Solis
Lyrics and rap vocals by Z. Read
Engineering by Brian Delizza
Mastering by Mike Wells

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POORBOY RICHKID San Francisco, California

PoorboyRichkid is a indie/rap Duo From San Francisco CA. The Sound is a blend of several genres and has a edgy, fresh new sound. Their Song "Hour Traps" was Recently featured on Bay areas LIVE 105 Radio staions show Souncheck. With an explosive live show, and a growing fan base, These guys are not to be taken lightly. Check out the Debut album Here or on Spotify/Itunes etc. ... more

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