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Parquet Courts - Master Of My Craft Lyrics



Parquet Courts - Master Of My Craft Lyrics




I got a gold medal record time, gold record, diamond mine
Name in print, tongue, t-shirts and minds
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

I didn't come here to dream or teach the world things,
Define paradigms, or curate no livin' days,
With high thread counts and staircases high.
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

People die I don't care, you should see the wall of ambivalence I'm building
I got no love for the living
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

Death to all false profits around here we praise a dollar you f*ckin' hippie
Wanna walk around in my shoes and then tell me how it feels
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

From the hands of my mother, said I'm master of my craft

Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Ya know Socrates died in the f*ckin' gutter!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I got a gold medal record time, gold record, diamond mine
Name in print, tongue, t-shirts and minds
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

I didn't come here to dream or teach the world things,
Define paradigms, or curate no livin' days,
With high thread counts and staircases high.
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

People die I don't care, you should see the wall of ambivalence I'm building
I got no love for the living
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

Death to all false profits around here we praise a dollar you f*ckin' hippie
Wanna walk around in my shoes and then tell me how it feels
Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Forget about it

From the hands of my mother, said I'm master of my craft

Thread count - high
Commissions - high
Hourly rates - high
A minute of your time?
Ya know Socrates died in the f*ckin' gutter!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: ANDREW CHRISTOPHER SAVAGE, AUSTIN BROWN, MAX SAVAGE, SEAN YEATON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




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