Horn And Hardart

Band of Thieves

Love Me or Leave Me

thundercat & tame impala - no more lies (slowed)

Stop Wait A Minute Girl B/W Whatcha Gonna Do

Whatcha Gonna Do

Lyrics:
Cold room, neon buzzes sick,
Restless pressure under my skin.
I snap the chains of daytime quick —
I tear loose; I break right in.

I spit today’s whole schedule out,
Your rules don’t run me.
My game’s the one that’s on the board,
I roll that dice—I don’t bleed. See?

I just do my own damn thing,
My deal, my will—
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I look the way I look,
I lock you down with my face.
Another body shoved inside,
No air, no light in that place.

Six weeks under psych review —
they map your head, your rage, your scar.
By then you're catalogued and through,
we all know exactly who - or what - you are.

“Who are we?” Filthy question.
You’re a file. You’re a mark. You’re a case.
Good ideas? I don’t care.
I wipe your name right off this place.

“Who? That one? Who? What? Him?”
Figure it out in your own hell.
I keep rolling how I choose.
I set the rules, I ring the bell.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

You swing a chair?
Then you get isolate.
One move — you’re in that cell.
Done. No debate.

Trouble? We’ve got tons.
You’re gone. Back in your box.
Not happy? Me neither.
Solve your own shocks.

Lucky I’m not you,
And I’ll never be.
I look you in the eyes and thank the night
That your world ain’t home to me.

Cold air.
Dirty ground.
Everything shakes, no mercy around.
I hold control, I set the tone —
This is my floor, my zone, my throne.

I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will —
I keep it still.
You get the stab, you get the punch,
You’re the one down the stairs in a crunch.
Your misery leaves me chill.
Who cares, bro?
Life’s only one bad play,
One stage act with no soul anyway.

I just do my own damn thing,
I just do my own damn thing,
My own deal, my own will.
I keep it still.
I keep it still.
I keep it still.

Merry Go Round

The Equatics

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