Wear your headphones, you doorknob-head having dingdong.

First uninvited tech I hear pingin’
Ring in a cameo from the hammerstone
Bam, the fantasy brandishing a banana phone
Cramp into the glamper van, vanish off the candid cam
Frying pan to fire like a vandal hand to Montana Gold
Fan the flame of animals with access to the roof like Michelangelo
About to free a statue from a cube
Hold a can of ruby like a spam musubi
In a blink I turn a block or two to pomegranate smoothie
All-state ball of fleas, walk in front a greyhound
In J’s so clean, even Paul of Thebes came out
Office in the hall of meat, I can’t even check the mail
Without a trail of handlers waving around dog treats
Here boy! Aes from before the first star wars
I survived action park, I survived lawn darts
Salsa bar all stars, buzzin’ and bitchin’
I got a seat at the summit for any son of perdition, wasup


All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Dashing through the atlas throwing magic at the sciences
I be in the crows nest most days
I know how the whole mess rotate
All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Mashing thru the mire, the master of my environment
I been doing laps of the lost world
I could draw a map to the raw nerve

By the bridge the air has a edge to it
It smell like a burning Sentra, it taste like a tens unit
The tension is extra extra, the meth’ll induce a hubris
The hubris produce a weapon for any potential Judas
A newbie could be confused with
It ain’t the hood to play who’s who in
I mean you ain’t even you in it to who is
I cook in the every nook, I’m a snap of the sewer cap
It’s a mile of uneven cobble, a map of the booby traps
I been active around the alleys, beyond where the taxi taxi
Beyond where the bus’ll bus ya, with blood on the classic khakis
A cannonball into traffic, a fire escape his trapeze
A lapse in the record when he circled back to tag the Applebees
And procure the appetizer breadsticks
They kill us in the long run but unite us in the present
A sign of life in the dead ends, even if it’s mostly mildew
You ain’t get it if you still on that “What are you getting into?”

All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Dashing through the atlas throwing magic at the sciences
I be in the crows nest most days
I know how the whole mess rotate
All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Mashing thru the mire, the master of my environment
I been doing laps of the lost world
I could draw a map to the raw nerve


I'm part of what the dour climate begets
A people that don’t jump at the power that be’s behest
Come bounce around the house of flying rejects
We been eating where upheaval is a feature not a defect
Tortellini MREs and zero dirty dishes
Only dirty minions yelling over yellow journalism
I got witches and wizards who opt to summer under bridges
Over sun-kissed in the tropics, maybe something’s in the liquid
I’m foreign to the comfort of performance for the glory
Every yard is part of out-running an origin story
That get him pressed into the corners
and connecting the dots in no order
Learned to render any exit I want
It’s a hole in the floor, it’s a door on the bricks
It’s a bike in the alley when you can’t warp to the ship
I stuck a fork in myself before you were spores in a dish
The mission only as important as that lure in your lip
Sure as shit

All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Dashing through the atlas throwing magic at the sciences
I be in the crows nest most days
I know how the whole mess rotate
All type a shit, all, all type a shit
Mashing thru the mire, the master of my environment
I been doing laps of the lost world
I could draw a map to the raw nerve

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