Cat Food Aesop Rock

[Verse 1]
At night I wear a wolf's head on my regular head
Consider an irregular character sketch
Food hoarder, communes with the flora
Computes in cahoots with beauty and brute force
I've got a brand new normal at a thirty in New York, plus
Years at the fire pulling portions out of corn husks
Never mind time on the short bus
Terrifying errant knights thwarting any motherfucking fork tongued-sport
Agita flashing the hind molars, though his body less a weapon more a bag of lipomas
Over medium, treat skin-tags like scratch-offs
Rap like black-ops, rappers like lap dogs
He got the rad moves, catty alpha rat-proof (wait)
Twenty-sided die at the crap-shoot (wait)
Looking for a black hole to casually collapse through
Try aisle nine by the cat food
There it is
Ooh wee, do we roast in a bilge, when the skinny from afar is "Thar be gold in them hills"
Time better let a couple truths decay, or somebody going to rue the day
Check, check, check

[Hook 1]
Catch 'em on the lam
(I ain't joking)
No maps, no muster point
(Nah, I ain't joking)
I put a pebble on a tomb
(I ain't joking)
Making bath tub meth
I'm joking
Here we go