"We now present to you...music" up* "Music to you stutter"
Rock] I've been a biplane dog Henson invention Trooper burst of Dragon Ball Z/Speed Racer gene splicing Mach force, blind the extorted style the common dirty Destiny sighting, important as split the prints God shit the planet "What on Earth is that?" I sit five dimensions to muscle the overcooked specimen Fending fatality successful dodging violets All hail and hello dollies! I ridiculous, indigenous to now Who holds the golden ticket? Saw the wicked war mansion beyond the pickets The house next door to when the stickball the fence Y'all to fetch it! I was through a pinball tilt built landscape Terradactle circling I bite the bullet in a wingspan Suck and the oxygen gulps And spit the directly back up the barrel We icegrill the (right) The common decency factors a estimate of zero My testament is striking b-boy Dancing the foggy mirror With wipes clean the goat beard, camoflague the spirit I'm at six degrees of sarcasm never swam up inside summerjam classic Under the bed backwards Scaverning the grounds for an outlet WHO THE IS AES ROCK? I'm not a name to keep at length Adjacent to little quilt makeshift Sick security mechanism, your mission I am not a vision, check your a simple sourpatch delinquent No it will not help you shove Lincoln
2x I alone I alone in the mud I alone, I condone zone planting I alone in a social coma All up to your dome, follow I
"Now you see me, now you don't" [Method
[Aesop he was maverick enough but still scraped up Taki 183 for the kids Brick foot ironlung Escape through the night like a teen Krylon bomber Without a care inside from posting the Mal-adjusted blank faced dispersed feelings Reeling in several separate defunct modules nervous twitch mark the most delectable ingredient See starving troops in cell blocks with strap-on feeding bins (More like) I'd auction off a fuck for that blind cause you ride in I'd rather the floors and watch you hide them Feel the haggered look penetrate brain Blasting clear out the of this batches sour wind collection (FLASH FLOODER!) a fuckin wind-up toy A goddamn string criminal trading card The reason decorate the fonts of closing credits To boost on-looker amusement after fading more Z's than Rip Van Winkle's 12 Step Narcolepsy Seminar The action, we all compete the illusion The commonfolk, I em all Challenge thirty I alone pour talent they fidget If the revolution ain't gon' be fuck, I'll probably miss it
2x