[Verse 1]
Raw, I'mma give it to ya, no trivia
Raw like that Aesop rock iron-fisted bliss militia
A bent funny bone, drone community
Spit a thousand and one ripples to cripple the continuity
Tapwater builds character. Right
I irrigate it straight to mainline
You want to do the same? Fine
These pretty profit grommet teams solidify to clot the slippery city sump piston pump drain
Behold "Old King Credible". Kind soul with a Russian-roulette bad mood spin-off
Where every day, a thousand strangers pray for empty chambers
One sixth buckle
Five sixths sweat bullets trying to keep it subtle
But I'll get you (I'mma get at you)
My novelty, wobbly rope bridge broke inches prior to dry land
But duck skull stepping-stones suit the mix down well
Well, when the rumor spreads that y'all stupid
I'll be the cat with guilty look on face and shirt that reads, "I didn't do it"
God, is it on? Is it beyond basic?
Does it ice-grill you? Or is every song faceless?
Does it have a title? If it didn't would you name it?
Does it babble about nothing like a drunk atheist?
We could run that Orwell's '84 warp for the Room 101 detour
Until each client fidgets with his or her own worst fear specifics
Swerve around the cobra kisses
See if the venom overloads this vision, I'mma suck the poison out and spit it
Stole my sneakers but your feet just never fit in
Serves you right for trying to walk a mile outside your limits
I'mma tiptoe across this yo-yo string
Until you walk the dog out from under my feet and skip town, sit down
Raw, I'mma give it to ya, no trivia
Raw like that Aesop rock iron-fisted bliss militia
A bent funny bone, drone community
Spit a thousand and one ripples to cripple the continuity
Tapwater builds character. Right
I irrigate it straight to mainline
You want to do the same? Fine
These pretty profit grommet teams solidify to clot the slippery city sump piston pump drain
Behold "Old King Credible". Kind soul with a Russian-roulette bad mood spin-off
Where every day, a thousand strangers pray for empty chambers
One sixth buckle
Five sixths sweat bullets trying to keep it subtle
But I'll get you (I'mma get at you)
My novelty, wobbly rope bridge broke inches prior to dry land
But duck skull stepping-stones suit the mix down well
Well, when the rumor spreads that y'all stupid
I'll be the cat with guilty look on face and shirt that reads, "I didn't do it"
God, is it on? Is it beyond basic?
Does it ice-grill you? Or is every song faceless?
Does it have a title? If it didn't would you name it?
Does it babble about nothing like a drunk atheist?
We could run that Orwell's '84 warp for the Room 101 detour
Until each client fidgets with his or her own worst fear specifics
Swerve around the cobra kisses
See if the venom overloads this vision, I'mma suck the poison out and spit it
Stole my sneakers but your feet just never fit in
Serves you right for trying to walk a mile outside your limits
I'mma tiptoe across this yo-yo string
Until you walk the dog out from under my feet and skip town, sit down
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