| Song | Lost Interlude |
| Artist | Cool Calm Pete |
| Album | Lost |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Cool Calm Pete | |
| All from a blank page and beats that have no name, | |
| seem like blank walls to cats' fame. | |
| Sniff the aerosol, and light headed, trippy | |
| abyss of concrete that clouds the streets | |
| Sky's the limit; hop the soul train, | |
| moves you mimic to a New York minute. | |
| and in a flash the world gone upside down, | |
| the townsfolk over-run by clowns. | |
| Since way back this homie don't play that, | |
| caught them rain drops at the brim of ya hat. | |
| Brace yourself, I'm rolling with no brakes, | |
| Power moves hellbent with back aches. | |
| Ya butterfingers, still couldn't get a grip. | |
| Ate the roach clip, you sank my battleship. | |
| Mondays, all disheveled. Even a rebel | |
| without a cause learned to settle. | |
| I'm off the kettle full blown growing steam, | |
| got snuffed by the American dream. | |
| Down for the count; stargazin... | |
| it's cool calm Peter Parker, the Amazing. |
| zuo qu : Cool Calm Pete | |
| All from a blank page and beats that have no name, | |
| seem like blank walls to cats' fame. | |
| Sniff the aerosol, and light headed, trippy | |
| abyss of concrete that clouds the streets | |
| Sky' s the limit hop the soul train, | |
| moves you mimic to a New York minute. | |
| and in a flash the world gone upside down, | |
| the townsfolk overrun by clowns. | |
| Since way back this homie don' t play that, | |
| caught them rain drops at the brim of ya hat. | |
| Brace yourself, I' m rolling with no brakes, | |
| Power moves hellbent with back aches. | |
| Ya butterfingers, still couldn' t get a grip. | |
| Ate the roach clip, you sank my battleship. | |
| Mondays, all disheveled. Even a rebel | |
| without a cause learned to settle. | |
| I' m off the kettle full blown growing steam, | |
| got snuffed by the American dream. | |
| Down for the count stargazin... | |
| it' s cool calm Peter Parker, the Amazing. |
| zuò qǔ : Cool Calm Pete | |
| All from a blank page and beats that have no name, | |
| seem like blank walls to cats' fame. | |
| Sniff the aerosol, and light headed, trippy | |
| abyss of concrete that clouds the streets | |
| Sky' s the limit hop the soul train, | |
| moves you mimic to a New York minute. | |
| and in a flash the world gone upside down, | |
| the townsfolk overrun by clowns. | |
| Since way back this homie don' t play that, | |
| caught them rain drops at the brim of ya hat. | |
| Brace yourself, I' m rolling with no brakes, | |
| Power moves hellbent with back aches. | |
| Ya butterfingers, still couldn' t get a grip. | |
| Ate the roach clip, you sank my battleship. | |
| Mondays, all disheveled. Even a rebel | |
| without a cause learned to settle. | |
| I' m off the kettle full blown growing steam, | |
| got snuffed by the American dream. | |
| Down for the count stargazin... | |
| it' s cool calm Peter Parker, the Amazing. |