To out there...
Speaking of out SPEAKING of out he from? He's from some planet, I heard He traveled...
I think that's a I heard that kid one from St. Paul
No... heh... no He ain't from St.
Well, he says from St. Paul But no, I think you're
Yeah, he he's from St. Paul Cause it's, it's more marketable you talk about you're from Earth But it out It a little something like this...
He dug deep in his to find nutrition for others Lost sleep, and turned, only to learn love is expensive Talk was cheap, till my thoughts grew Now I take on walks with me But let them off the leash they might cross the street and get hit Listen a second, I to need a friendship With forms of energy till everyone repented Now I'm end this with a sentence(?) and a sentence a way of life To stay the night with my notebook, then up the next day to write Again, and again, and again and again and and again my pen is inevitably inseparable from my finger skin Lingering in the depths of pool of resendential Fighting a million and ten battles that'll sprain my neck into dudes(?) Bobbing my head to keep cool, true, on the down low proof for the bleeding, is it useful in the council Meaning it cheaper what you believe to be the at the moment Yeah, he's exceeding the quotient and feeding me But the machine be broken
Cause he'd rather give him a uppercut than him a hook So he steady throwin jabs just to get him to Man, every thought he had quietly sits in his book For anyone that's afraid to jump, let me him a push Rather give him a than give him a hook So I'm steady throwin just to get him to look Every thought I ever had quietly in his book For anyone that's afraid to jump, let me give him a
From the side to the southside, to the wild side to the pesticide To the genocide to the homicide, you to set aside Well, pick a side, any side, are you along for the ride? Oh me oh me oh my, I wish you would die kid, you're the reason for my sore throat PETTY MORTAL (?), the war won't till you hop in a porthole And sort those problems out, child, it ain't all about style Cause you break your back to state the facts and make them smile the pain in my religion, paintin by the pigeons Strainin while you're listenin to brain on tire ribbons Givin a splittin headache with delivery Livin as a poetic shredded by the of misery describin the pain inside of this entity Physically and mentally, we all pretend to sympathy Interesting enough, you say you don't give a But there's I grew to like through this mic that I clutch So keep your hands down, and put your span up Understand now, man, sound is a dimension you touch Plants crush, the vocals of that local named Eyedea hit your ear So c'mon, get your and stand up
Because I'd rather him a uppercut than give him a hook So I'm steady throwin just to get him to look Every thought I ever had sits in his book For anyone afraid to jump, let me give him a push Rather give him a than give him a hook So I'm steady jabs just to get him to look Every thought I ever had quietly sits in his For that's afraid to jump, let me give you a push
BURY MY MIND(?) with a friendship and a tin can Get your business and dig me up outta the ground when you get rich, man I'll take a round of applause, but won't take no kids Cause the challenge is to balance my bike without a kickstand Now a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go In a room of [hookers], well my head isn't in town I consume you, shoulda, and assume that the lookers See the moon and the fact they pushing you to do more than a broom to Tune rolls to your head, and you to see There really is more to life than bustin [guns] and [weed] But we proceed to say it ain't until we got gray hair But next time I ask you to think, don't give me a blank stare
Yo, cause I'd rather him a uppercut than give him a hook So I'm steady throwin just to get him to look Every thought I ever had sits in his book For that's afraid to jump, let me give you a...
Give you a, push it up now, it up it up now! Push it up Lemme see them hands, (Push em up now!)
(overlapping Eyedea) it up now! it up now! Push it up, it up now!
What planet is he planet is he from? He goes, he goes, one, two Up in silicone and ice maintain glish mill (?!) (some jibberish) ...better play my wood, E-Y-E D-E-A, bombard bitchy wits of bags, diplomatic to the hip Hop around, hip hop around, hip hop around now, now, now Just grab your partnee and And listen to the RC kids can flow, whoa, whoa, whoa *laughs and breath*