[Verse 1: Rob Sonic]
Fire of the opal blitz
Take everything your clothes can fit
And give the post and roses before coach misses his bowling pins
And don’t admit to nothing, become badder ‘bout the cookie jar
The driving doesn’t matter when they ask about how good you park
A ten from all the judges, we got cousins at the carousel
And Trixie in the kissing booth with big balloons and hair from hell
Share the wealth my dude, do not be chiefing all my Fabergé
I stole it from my pop’s room in a costume and a black beret
Perhaps I may have gone too far by telling her my business booms
I take my Bentley off-road, oh, and also that my dick is huge
I pick and choose my battles to be raffled off in cactus chairs
It’s my way or the highway or some crime tape and some traffic flares
Fashion fares, smacking gum, the beef and brats are relish-tipped
The sour patch to house your hat, the power that compels your kids
To help with it I’m flipping birds and cursing as my family frowns
Turn your mens and them to little engines that just can’t right now
[Chorus: Baby Dayliner]
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
[Verse 2: Aesop Rock]
Mom brought home the wrong baby
Chained in the attic for y’alls safety
Steak tossed in that cage daily
She raised the gate the same day turned 18, ay
Now I’m always the away team
Yay-long wake of D-Days and daisies
9-1-1, menace at the Macy’s
Wake up, face the rabies, taste the brain freeze
Ape at the Empire State going ape
Midtown raining planes, I got
5-0 with the binos aimed, “Hey Chief
He up there painting his name"
"He up there saving the dames"
Dangerous game, as he label the rain
When the anger and hate flare up
As a fatal attain, Abel or Cain
Mage friends that forecast, my tongue pressed to this frog’s back
I am the walrus, it says walrus on my dog tag
Red gauze on my paw pads, I’m like Rembrandt when I moonwalk
Red, white, and blue sweatbands, the most deadpan in New York
Saturday night not dead yet, gravity dice on the velvet
Taking his tie off, waving the flies off, traced in a eye on his helmet, well
Band-aids on hellholes and hellscapes, it’s
Elbows on elbows, it’s handshakes like shell games, yeah
[Chorus: Baby Dayliner]
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
You got the part as the star of the show
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