Barcade

[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]

Uh

Duck, duck, I'm too next

Punks jump to get suplexed

My two cents is y'all fucked up

So come buddy up with these moose heads

I get blood and guts on my work clothes

So no turncoats and no funny stuff

I go turbo, ya do run run, or get chaperoned back to bumblefuck

Rabbit holes on rabbit holes, with no long goodbyes, I just vamonos

I might reappear as some vagabond who yell dirty words into a traffic cone

Ain't shit but some sick joke, I don't mix well with this milquetoast

Day ones get wished well, but I give hell to these bridge trolls

It go late night, I'm no saint, I'm so gone, don't change

I ain't old school, I ain't new school

I'm more no school like snow days

Stowaways start popping out, posse up on y'all stomping grounds

Mainstays turn nomad, it's still no match for these foxhounds

Smokestack, I'm dead inside, four wheels, one hell ride

Two hands with ten middle fingers, one shit grin, two pecked eyes

All pressurized

Ante up, my tantrum is on full tilt

Drum roll, come talk tough, I'm like cough cough, it's all bullshit

[Verse 2: MF DOOM]

Shitty fingers in your weed jar

This whole world is like VR

Free shows at the rebar

All hokey and yeehaw

Keep plucking your guitar

See par dipped off the price is right

Free car, we are

Bob Barker, much darker

Black parka, fat marker

Mic sparker

Metal face, more bodies than a

Night stalker

Ramirez switching all the he says, she says

Prefer to follow her

Unless she itching between these legs

Meticulous, hero shine, zero swine, green eggs

Pack got more whiny rappers that's more annoying than scene kids

Villain crush green dust into fine powder

Vanilla Dutch, pop clutch, feel rush

Feel up on the real nuts

No pause, rappers all broads, no bras

Violating all the smoke laws

White lies, folklores, bleed out, no gauze

Zombies with their headsets

Nah, he's not dead yet, bet

Been centuries fighting armies and these death threats

[Verse 3: Slug]

Take a breath before we sink into the depth of darkness

The rich people are tryin' to eat you, better protect your armpits

Mommy, pick up your telephone and accept the charges

I'll see you next thirsty Thursday when I collect your garbage

They unfamiliar, but they still present respect regardless

Never starvin' for attention, never begged for pardons

I checked your references, they all said that you're extra harmless

I'll straight up fuckin' son you, then I'll catch some bargains

I might be your plug, it depends on where your heart is

You might be my plug, it depends on where your farm is

I'll take a smart dog with sauerkraut and Parmesan

And you can find me tryin' to make party until the stars are gone

First-time caller, tryin' to holler at Martians

I might be servin' cauliflower at the farmers market

Rest in peace to all the energy outside of the margin

And leave a candle in the window, that's for Michael Larsen