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the palmer squares – the company lyrics

[verse 1: terminal knowledge]
just shut your mouth, take a walk
pump up the volume of sacred law
lost in a whirlwind, tossing and turning
shake it off until the break of dawn
take the charge, worry later
encourage haters to return the favor
when i raise the bar, learn the name
cause terminal k no perfect stranger
roll in a hoopty, hoping to soon be a ’74 impala
like kembe i’m known to holler so “let me hold that dollar”
now my pockets low on cash, i’m that pothead stole your stash
started what’s hardly a movement of choosing knowledge over swag
bird-d-gg-ng chicks and banging beaver
finna take a breather when i’m slanging reefer
just to burn the profits, optimistic
god forbid the politics is plain as zebras
black and white, map the night
p-ss the mic so don’t ask ’em twice
all i’mma offer is bad advice
cause i already got me an -ss to wipe
(nauseous) you make me wanna vomit, b-tch
erasing all your doc-ments
i been through the wire, it’s louis cypher
they saying “what the h-e-double hockey sticks?”
head locked in a prison, prophetic wisdom
rock to the rhythm – forth and back
want you to swing cuz they cork the bat
not gonna give anymore than that

[hook]
never alone, set it in stone
ready to go on a journey
to the underneath, but i’m gonna need
a little company, who’s finna come with me?
said it before, never alone
ready to go on a journey
to the underneath, but i’m gonna need
a little company, who’s finna come with me?

[verse 2: kembe x]
taking n-ggas back to the bas-m-nt
when a n-gga mind trip to get my sh-t aligned
figured i was hit inclined, fifteen, school been f-cked up
for life, gimp out and the tool get upped’d
fools didn’t trust it, righteous in life is a price
you can pay to live life as you like it
prices, the vices, the wish – big change
been slave to them, f-ck minds screamin’ them lames
t-tties in my phone like
i’m a f-cking menace to my own right
tight, i even get it when i don’t write
sittin’ in a room full of n-ggas that i don’t like
busted cause we don’t fight
a lone night turn lives into fable
stone, flip one, get a price on the table
go get some, n-gga life ain’t gon’ pay you
for b-tching and moaning and cry everyday
i fall asleep with my third eye open
envisioning the world in my palm
on the tips of my grip, got a b-tch on my d-ck
with her eyes on my fist cause she heard i’m holding
shut the f-ck up with all that talking sh-t
i thought i told you that, quit tryna hold me back
next b-tch is stuck up will never walk again
i took her head and her heart cause she owed me that
uh, trippin’ off what’s packed in a bong
don’t choke, if you don’t, then you’re smacking it wrong
go broke over gold cause my mind says shiny
chrome fo-fo for when times get grimy
to blast it or not is my question, i’m the astromanaut of my session
it’s fat -sses and pot in my session, flexin’
village triple 7 is my brethren, n-gga

[hook]

[verse 3: ac-mental]
it’s a pilgrimage, i’mma k!ll you, b-tch
leaving enemies dead in the wilderness
so underground i can’t find the dirt
behind the curtain, blind to what life is worth
all in, pressin’ my luck
i’m possessed and i give far less than a f-ck
head full of fluff, big chest when i puff
at the gentlemen’s club ’til i’m left with a buck
scribble notes in calligraphy
i go ham when i smoke that hickory
an emcee most cats ain’t fit to be
but peep game, people can’t say sh-t to me
cause i counterblast ’em in a louder fashion
while i pound an absinthe in a crowded tavern
got an ounce of gr-ss and a mound of hash
the astounding rapper, turn a frown to laughter
weed in my sock at the court like feed me the rock
pump-fake, pop, sink a shot
believe it or not, i been thinking a lot
’bout whether my malevolence will leave me to rot
cause it happened to her and it happened to him
it’ll happen to me, it’ll happen again
got a baggie of weed in my cabinetry
that i grab when i need to relax for a bit
the ferocious, slow-motion, lookin’ fresh in my old clothes
if hope floats, you can bet i’m sinkin’
most folks don’t know what the h-ll i’m thinking ’bout
on a trip from the crust to the core
drop a disc and you rush to the store
bust in your door
cups of malört
we complacent with less, but accustomed to more…

[hook]

- the palmer squares lyrics

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