Yo, I touch with rusted clutch, then spun out of the dust and careen into the temples of automated destruct nanotech bugs in the blood get unplugged fishing for the fly shit hybrid I run among the mudskipper swarms through warnings and good morning Beiruits Little Billy Blunderbuss looking for more recruits city life is practice casket truancy that's the rule of you and me, brash unmasked lunacy friends used to laugh fast, grasped little truth from me now they check their bags with a staff claspin' Uzis who deserves the wrath without warning the same sky for the martyr with a spork scorch New York forfeits run among the poppy fields order some more clips store trips are weird but the fear is forceless Bloomey bought the city of Lego and shitty metal hull jitters to the floor boards burnt almost aborted flight of the accidental tourist, morbid the advertising gods so oddly courtship godly corporate squads plot these tortures holiness is hard and it's costing god fortunes (guess he took a second job on the force to afford it) I don't want a part of these self fulfilled prophecies man it's too much for my stubbornness, I hate the people runnin' shit now if you sleep at ground o below, wishing you peaceful sleep where horror on the surface emerges less frequently, metal bars of ancient Rome dissolved from the scenery (now what the fuck) I'll take a hostage and walk through the mosh pit pristine untouched, NB703's untouched trust is a commodity crushed by Pol Pottery your cookie cutter laws contain flaws in philosophy tumbling down a flight of Escher bach steps delight cause the man who raped my sister wont sleep right tonight now I suppose the pretty horses in fours could love more but I'm exhausted by the scope of this dark god on opiates breakfast for dystopian ruthless hope movements seasonal and festive the butchery's lookin good and now writers block is a prison camp where free press regress now you can hypnotize the herd I'm alive with fly visions that attack like Alfred Hitchcock raising rabid carrier pigeons true the only form of com not tapped is trapped strong in the cranium of future rebel infants whistling the song I know you're listening, get down with this bitch, whistle along.
[Cage] It's like the Bilderburgs came to dinner with filthy birds they pussy all infected I'm lookin for milky words they pulled my third eye out then they let it dry out had to pour my belief in Chrst to find out what I look like with no skin who mandated while the back of my paper is still luminated even your no flipped egyptian Euro got my website shut down by the Bureau Can't kick it with the dead until my life stop but Bush got a ouija to talk to Adam Weishaupt I breath artist time fans the artist put a couple G's together before harvest light I'll take all this the hell I'm doin? Dippin this whole fuckin' pound in enbalmin fluids you think I rhyme to do it? if it's (?on point?)) shot is If you can't help but sleep peel off your eyelids.
[CamuTao] It's the year 2010, you can say what you want But I bet if you light this blunt, dummy, the feds'll come runnin' Lock you up, lock you out, you ain't tryin' to listen Cameras in your food, dude, look they're trying to listen Lock you up, lock you out, we got bugs in the house We're being monitored, they know we got thugs in the house Don't light your blunt, bitch, they'll hit you with a switch Hit you with a beam, hit you in the brain, make you go totally insane Wild out, guns in the spot, flippin' on you niggas They take you out, then the Feds push guns on the roof They take 'em out, melt you out 'cause you know too much After that you know your ho's get touched Look, Then the meaning starts Download your chip to a memory card Give your chips and send 'em to a city job