Scraps - CES Cru

CESphiles.

Volume one

You can get it, yeah

A handshake with a handsome face

Pressed suit with a clean collar

Hanson’ll have a chance, Dean dodger and Kent clobber

Puffin' on Harry Potter

Moustache like a bank robber

Got a number from the teller

Plus cash and a «Thank Roger»

We ain’t mobsters

Still make offers you can’t refuse

Got your wallet in my pocket

And rocking my dancing shoes

A watch up in my sleeve

Feet flashing a fancy move

And I boogie down for babies

And snatching they candy too

A thief like me, roll down the streets, my sweet

And acquire as hearts desire with his bleached-white teeth

Sharp eye with a brow raised

He’s the touchiest type

Uptight and always get Jason Dean for his lucky stripes

Stay slippin' the golden zippo that’s engraved with the name

And flows that’s official you can pay for the stains

Leave tables with over triple what I came with to play

Dirge Hanson to blow the whistle

Dean to spray with the 'gauge

Now fade away

I’ll smack the dog ass outta you

How could you sleep?

Man, I haven’t bumped nobody else album in weeks

I’m too busy actin busy

Asking myself «who is he?»

Chop a line for me, myself and I after I pack a philly

Mama said there’d be days like this

I believed her

Mama said «Don't be out in the cold, you’ll catch a fever»

And as far as she knows

I never seen a single one of them

Choke the barrel so the melon’ll blow

Wash the blood and afterbirth off, first off the pound, gee

Swear a «fuck you» for the phony people around me

I’m figuring a formula finally became our style, see

It sticks like decals, vomit, venom and algae

Do I wanna die, man I’m sure like Al B

You couldn’t guess the name of my demon and pull him out me

Wanna hang with Dean?

Well you’ll need a chair and about three

Feet of rope for me to cope if I’m rolling without cheese

Yeah

And all we men are blind mice

A blind eye discerned for nothing

With a finger on control

Just squash panic button

Stop fronting, flabbergasted

As if I would die for plastics

With a chip on shoulders bigger

Bigger than your bully masters

My road is laid with cobblestones

Your house is made with stick

I fortified the landscape, refortified the brick

We called it doomsday

So you play the plight for rhythm

And psyches giving the night

Pierce the light in prisms of sight

Forgiver with sore eyes

A slight slice, incision to bite through your lifeline

A knife can get 'em with my sinister blind side

And I can give it a succubus

To a life worth living

So we can break the measures of them tethered to thought

Travelled lands to the dead

I’ll nail your hands on the cross

Burn experiment I’ve wrought

So if you and I lost

Don’t sweat it

Get beheaded on this suicide watch, man