Primor

[Verse 1: P.O.S.]

Check it out, sit-sit-still-I'm-sit-sittin

Sittin crooked like the scene sucks

Mean mugs aiming at my style like I'm clean from the face up

They probably treat me like I'm scored from the neck down

Urn full of clowns, no worth for them burn down

No disrespect, see I've observed them before

Both the words and the work

All hustle, no heart

They all hard, no hope, no scope to me

I'm all work canned out

P.O.S., even in the mix, even in the sticks, Midwest

"Easy with them bricks, we got kids where we live" shit

And I don't care how you feed yours...(?)

(?)...a little more than greed like explore, like shit

And respect my Clay Davis brains for days

Claim the same, remain aimless

And I ain't talking about getting a sweet Blow-J, Fucker

I am talking about reading

Like books

[Verse 2: PeeGee 13]

Lip-service spit circular when the shitstorm spiral

Lineup so sizable it's viral

We airborne toxin tutelage

So toot your little airhorn often and play possum for music biz

If bitches really ain't shit like the song went

Then bitches are good, or being shit is a compliment

The kid is just a monument to nuance

The nuclear option, nary a nincompoop could want some

The barn burn him behemoth, the weeds were barely illegal

In a speakeasy sippin a snifter or a speak-no-evil

There's bittersweet in a sentiment semiautomatic for the people

That's semiautobiographical as seen through a tenement keyhole

Young Cardigan, sleepwalking in

Degenerates conversations again

Friend, this is your awakening

Be it smelling salts or assault and battery

You're susceptible to supplemental tragedy

[Instrumental interlude]

[Verse 3: D.J. Zone]

Look at the way that we are makin em move

Psychedelic technicolor with Nixon on the tube

Or the time with the life that we

Have made for this to describe, analyze, and see

But xenophobics call me ColdWind

(No, Wind, you need to be quiet unless...)

Good gosh

Travelin with optimism and listenin you were captured, captivated

You never knew that it could feel like this, exaggerated

And overexceeds all expectations

Loving the lines of language and communications

Crossing your heart so many times that you feel impatient

Crossing your finger, figure it's a figment of imagination

(Congratulation, time is outta hand)

(?)...there's a lot more man

That's where I stand with plans to overtake the cynicism of man

Just stand careful, it'll overexpand, destroying contraband

[Verse 4: Aesop Rock]

Still teething, throw me something

Uh, hallowed be the aim of the arrows

Yeah the veiled brothers valor up the frame of the gallows

A couple gaudy thought bubbles up to clamor by the pittage

Shit, it must've looked like antlers from a distance

Tampered but then grew up thinking God was just a fist that hammers pigeons unforgivingly

Swung with a whimsical intermittency

We are on the heels of a measurable misfortune

Now a doorbell is an omen for a peace sign made of forceps

And I know the horsemen sorta got him torn

"Best if you endure something important" said the angels over organs on a morning of exorbitant reform

My morning is secured behind a corrugated cardboard arma

Hardcore deus orchestrate a heartworm farm

Buckle down and correlate and barnstorm more

I feel they Frankensteined us all together for a purpose

To openly square up against the frenzy's greatest circlers

Fuckin suckers