Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
F-POS
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Taras Hrubyj-Piper
Composer
Patrick Cornwall
Composer
Caroline Linton de Dear
Composer
Jamunajai Andrew Joseph Renaud
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
F-POS
Producer
Dann Hume
Producer
Lyrics
A hat with no home
A head with no train
There’s no reservation at the hotel I sit
But I sit anyway
There's a standing ovation
But I don’t hear her applause
She’s stuck in the woodwork
In the backstage there’s a patient
We’re nursing no cause
I got keen
I got cold
I got spit, turnt & wired
High rise bleed em young
It's a shot to the face in the last winning race
High rise bleed in the dumb
Ya
Yeah boy
Let's go
In the day
In the night
Wanna fight
Wanna fight
???????????
Never read the signs
I break upon entry
Cause that's my home
I’m not yours to play with
You’re ten feet short
I’m paper cut stone
The sad man’s guitar kept the jewels in the basement
This table's not steady
The fat man got tall
There’s stains in the papers
In the street demonstrations
White callin’ black kettle thug
I got keen
I got cold
I got spit, turnt & wired
High rise bleed em young
It's a shot to the face in the last winning race
High rise bleed in the dumb
I turnt six off the rail
And your mugs in the mail
High rise burning tongue
If the cops don’t call
Leave them framed on the wall
High rise new world come
I don't wanna play safe
In a dirty card game
So flip it on an X-trail
Drag me down a highway
Don't wanna play ma fat boy
I'm a gold canary
So imma play ma playstaysh
Imma do it my way
I'm holding on
So easily
But to act upon
Makes me heavy
Well I'm holding on
So easily
Just to act upon
Makes me heavy
Written by: Caroline Linton de Dear, Jamunajai Andrew Joseph Renaud, Patrick Cornwall, Taras Hrubyj-Piper