Fumes Aesop Rock

[Intro]
"You ain't shit man, your story's a joke
You should package it with a last smoke and six feet of rope."

[Bridge]
Stay awake little misfit
Her lips wet a very particular mischief
Sis' wiggle an index, if your limbs let
Or settle for a warm, burgundy bubble out of her beak instead

[Verse 1]
Hey, tequila to free the worm
Had his liver scuba suit up on the Sabbath
His personal pale rabbit
At the hole's end her delicate mitten tipped
For sticking pissy liquor in him every day at six
Silly, predictability is a bitch
Fully patterned, had her awkwardly christening the small talk chalk board
She said, "This is less of a fixer-upper than my last bar."
"Funny, you're less of a fixer-upper than my last whore."
Crass is Similac to the milky wit of today's youths
Both chuckle out
Next couple on the house
Next couple on the couch
Swapping social coma rants
Phobias and soldier doubts, jokes and corporate mogul bans
Motor-mouths
The key to open his closure:
Pussy plus yay; she hid in a broken toaster
And later wake neighbors over chemical flavor to fuck sickly
Tooth, nail beauty through the skin deep