Christ Flow

[Verse 1]

You suckers settle like sediment

Sentimental to ketamine

Rent a pedalo get em in

Then I’ll let it go gentlemen

Fletcher in the Sketchers

Etch A Sketching chicks up on Letterman

Send a medal and cheque, it’s signed by an Ellen with pen in hand

I’ll fashion a bow, fashion to go

Flashing her globes at my show

My passion is smashing, irrational, casual **

I pray my Clay be smashing the moulds

You can’t see us, or be us

Cassius pass us the dro, ok I

Sit by the exit on my flight

I got two X’s on my eyes

Sit by my exes on my flight, woah

That floral dress be looking nice

The chorus best be hooking right

I think I’m best at cooking rice

So bring the sides whoa

[Chorus]

A fucking Christ Flow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though

Like a cyclone

With a bright glow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though

[Verse 2]

You better than this

No I ain’t

I’m a loser

Wait

I'm a truther and the proof is

In the fucking cake

Crash into a beauty pageant

Man I’ll win that shit

Accolades and ladies

Been there done that

Bin that shit

Never seen a movie

Better than the Iron Giant

That shit had me crying

All night hiding under duvets sighing

Man some times I feel like

I’m the Iron Giant flying

Into nuclear warheads

My jaw clenched

Alyx my belt, Orion

Gravity defying

Monty Python Life of Brian

1963 rendition of Jason and the Argonauts

Passing up on all support on tour

My daughter calls from Baltimore

Shit ain’t have a daughter

But I do have apple cores of course

[Chorus]

A fucking Christ Flow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though

Like a cyclone

With a bright glow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though

[Verse 3]

So if to perch means to purchase

When I say I’m ‘perchin like a bird’

I don’t mean chirping, slurping worms

No I be murdering Hermés

Béarnaise on my steak

Honey, can I stay?

‘Get away you primate

I got a boyfriend, what, you a blind ape?’

I will, kick him down four flights

Have him falling for a fortnight

Take a tour guide to the morgue and the man say

‘Damn this goblin’s corpsem light’

I sit back and crack attack a pack of Snack a Jacks and Coors Lite

She a maestro with the lights low

‘Come on baby, where’d your tights go?’

[Chorus]

A fucking Christ Flow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though

Like a cyclone

With a bright glow

It don’t mean much

But it’s sounding tight though