[Intro]
All persons are warned to stay off the streets
All persons are warned to stay off the streets
Civil defense personnel, report to their stations
Civil defense personnel, report to their stations
All others take shelter
All other persons, take shelter
Do not panic, follow instructions
[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
Trouble takes many forms, in-between shedding skin
Some are subtle, some are semaphore, holding severed limbs
Some in extra innings, seven-seven, no one ever win
Propeller hats in motion, no actual developments
Impatient ember, adding a splash of his own accelerant
I'm to the races, sorting through the few, the future favors
It's those of you that let the pooch chew through the computer cables
And grow food based on the lunar phases
Who maneuver right, I'm Snoopy on the roof at night
Staring at the canopy, like, "Can I peek into the light?"
Or am I needed here at home? A human being supervised
Stupefying overseers, zoom in on the pupil size
Choose your fighter, them or me, or everyone vs. entropy
The only ever undefeated zero artificial intel, NPC
Or that's the tendency, a bullet train to randomness
That started out successfully, and ended at abandon ship
Okay, I'm mostly here to catch the wave
Somewhere between the Etta James and psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est
Check the resume of monkey wrenches into engine bays
And total hours ascending at some unrelenting MPH
I brake at MLK and terra incognitas
Where the sidewalk ends at lenses eyeing terrifying genius
And it smells like something holy, put a L up for his peoples
Pizza from that one spot, hello from the zenith
No response, so far
Bowl of the Gods, the color of Violet Beauregard
Mm, Dr. No cigar, I hand nothing out to nobodies with no regard
There is not a satellite of any worldly origin
That point to a location this impossibly inordinate
Meanwhile, somewhere that you haven't tried
Rumors of a round table, breaking up the staff of life
Yeah, shit is Jazzercise
[Verse 2: Homeboy Sandman]
However you consider the kid
Won't find me sitting rhythmless, watching a vid of a vid
How many pics before the difference 'tween a pit and abyss?
I'm in the mix without a logo on the fit or the lid
The mercenary, thrown and parrying fists
Fighting the various nefarious kitsch that's known for marrying rich
Not of the ilk that's always milking a fib
Mumbling guff, my infrastructure wasn't built on a grid
I'm just taking me a shot in the dark
But if you never taken off to take a walk in the park
I'm more concerned about the take instead of making a mark
And being seen instead of sweet, you're not deserving of a seat on The Ark
Skedaddle while I channel the source
Skedaddle while I channel the sauce, boss
As a youth, I's always hooping on the main courts
Cats be souped up, but a soup is not a main course
Love, hope, pain, loss
These are just a couple of the issues that I don't force
Technically "couple" means two
Guess I mean few, I review
I know you're feeling hollow from following these fools
Get wit' the Mister-Fix-It that don't even need tools
Really, what in the devil? Cats ain't on my level
They are gonna need stools, enough being cool
I know it's cruel, but might be time to drain some gene pools
Abolish and demolish fake, and use the real estate to build schools
Somebody gotta make the right moves
Set the right moods, Lice rules
I got some great news
This time I'm going viral, I just shot some great nudes
I'm so fly, I just ate dehydrated space food
For real
This is Buns of Steel
[Verse 3: Lupe Fiasco]
Yeah
Yeah
Take a break from persecuting idolatry
In the countryside with hunting knives as it runs and hides
'Cause I wanna try and hold it by the underside
Then jump and dunk a pumpkin pie, stuff a stocking with a thunder thigh
I want to put things into things
Principally, in vitro fertilize kings into queens
What you mean what it means?
I just like to write, brothers, like wings on machines
It's suspicious like Marines on they deens
If they pull up a better-than-they-are-dar, I'd be a ping on a screen
Pong bar! On the turntables like a Pyongyang ping pong all-star
Smoking on an all tar Marlboro
Hot box y'all, talking like it's y'all car
Driving with drivers in the backseat, like a golf cart
Man, if y'all start, I'll divide this place like a Walmart
That's low hanging fruit
All my lines come with old dangling boots
Don't park in a tow spot
And yet I walk around with my heel in the toe box with no socks
With a princess, and a yeti
And a old golden robot, a Dr. Scholl's with a hole
'Cause hiking took a toll, I mean a whole lot
The under look like its whole life, it's been fighting foos
Like Dave Grohl, got stole on, and cold cocked
With the tongue of a cobra and the sole of a Pol Pot
Sidebar, I really want that old watch that looked like gold rocks
Hit me in the comment section with directions if you know a spot
And if they lying, somebody reply to that comment with a "No, it's not"
In regards to flattery, like an open pop
It's a battery with a broken dock
It's not a Rollie
Sweatin' to the Oldies
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