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chael blinya – belongings transfers (yard & estate sales) lyrics

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verse 1
when everybody starts leaving town
i’ll stick around like campfires
built from ground, we’ll crumble down
mutumbo now, pummel, breaking common ground
humble off the block, rejection will often form a frown
rebound & box it out, memories sold from boxes now
sl!ck negotiation talks of how
we snuck around at estate sales & dipped
yet stuck around p+wn shops to thrift
and thrift shops to p+wn
strangers crowded on lawns for items bout to get rid
are you catching my drift or are you dropping the past?
moments had, handed off to ya
glad to know, i knew ya

chorus
one man’s treasure is another man’s trash (2x)
if you don’t value your treasure then another man can
just don’t put your trash in another man’s can

verse 2
whom should i thank?
for treasure buried discovered
how should i pay?
spots where x placed marks
found an array of recollections collected
come compensate, can’t give away
memorabilia embedded in the hippocampus
is more expensive than a brush, ask any canvas
be careful what you condone in your temporal lobe
golden moments unfold at table of clothes
unravel once told boy go comb your dome
stranded antiques made cheap molded by antics uh yea
them ceramics look fine, wait till i drive a bargain
all your sh+t will be mine, n+gga
chorus
one man’s treasure is another man’s trash (2x)
if you don’t value your treasure then another man can
just don’t put your trash in another man’s can

bridge
no i won’t, yes i may, maybe i will, no i can’t
no i won’t, yes i may, maybe i will, maybe i can

a home is no more than a memory

ain’t it, ain’t it?

verse 3
10.99 for my first chipped tooth
oh no i’m fine, it’s not bluetooth
add in a dime for my third kiss too
you see a bike, i predict knee scr+pes
unbalanced, cheapskates who can’t skate
that ain’t a rug, i see secrets we’ve swept
underneath, childhood trauma gene+rationally kept
boldy upsold in hand me downs untold
with cholesterol & glucose like bootleg cds
you know i can’t use those uh
that’s like a barter with your barber
eating hardee’s out in harvard
then sydney singing sinatra next to oprah at the opera
too close for comfort in name to even do so
bought ‘stella got her groove back’ used
failed to find kuzco’s
belongs transfer, getting jipped
i’ve come too close
yea but i’m tryna keep my cool
who are you to judge, you don’t know what i’ve been through
what is this? a private pity party?



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