[Hook: El-P]
Shutup... Yo, yo, yo, yo
My life's not right, check one
My life's not right, check two
My life's not right, check three
Are you ready???!!
El-P: You know this was supposed to be for my album right?
Vaste Aire: Oh.. Whatever
El-P: It's Ok
[Verse 1: El-P]
When I send a sickness (ease down) dark soldiers
Fallin in with flying debris
And bad programs of landmines
That remind me of the sexiest of slow jams
I pull a Glock or fever murder the group by numbers
I was nursed by the biggest of buildings
And had the sonic volcanic cap
That the butcher have attached to his dead mother
Now this material might walk with a twitch and live for the twisted shit
Images of Boy Scouts getting pistol whipped
Electronic talents fold
The realest television is the one that talks out loud to you
When the plug is corroded out
And they say productivity is up this month but I've lost my passion
Sick of waiting in line for my weekly chocolate ration
It's bad health and industrial sadness
Never helped by tofu franks or holistic magnets
This addiction is more random
I walk door to door Mormon style spitting my sick tantrums
Because I wasn't born handsome
Now that my life's complete with a capacity to push greatness buttons
With beats that have to be registered
As sex offenders represented to the public
I'll exfoliate your face with the acid inside my stomach
Binge and purge, we live in thirty second blurbs
And if consumers stopped existing we'd forget how to use words
Just fuckin' eat each other til the next ice age occurs
Or at the Source Awards scratchin' our heads like what happened
If the kids would've disclosed their true alarm if you just ask them
Out to plant life that sits and looks pretty
To attract curious insects and angels when in the city
That's below any self-respecting actress in a German scheisse film
Who gobbled donkey dick and human feces
My fingers tap buttons with sanctified awareness
From heart scan to pulse readings
This a voice from a dead dimension without astral projection
The sluggish rugged discuss bunk that hovers
Acme lab rat escape barely breathing through the heating vents
I'll try to come back for my family before the poison feeding commence
But if I should exhaust God's patience on some shit better take my place [???]
Tell 'em it's the love that got me this far
And it's in my dreams I see their faces in
Shutup... Yo, yo, yo, yo
My life's not right, check one
My life's not right, check two
My life's not right, check three
Are you ready???!!
El-P: You know this was supposed to be for my album right?
Vaste Aire: Oh.. Whatever
El-P: It's Ok
[Verse 1: El-P]
When I send a sickness (ease down) dark soldiers
Fallin in with flying debris
And bad programs of landmines
That remind me of the sexiest of slow jams
I pull a Glock or fever murder the group by numbers
I was nursed by the biggest of buildings
And had the sonic volcanic cap
That the butcher have attached to his dead mother
Now this material might walk with a twitch and live for the twisted shit
Images of Boy Scouts getting pistol whipped
Electronic talents fold
The realest television is the one that talks out loud to you
When the plug is corroded out
And they say productivity is up this month but I've lost my passion
Sick of waiting in line for my weekly chocolate ration
It's bad health and industrial sadness
Never helped by tofu franks or holistic magnets
This addiction is more random
I walk door to door Mormon style spitting my sick tantrums
Because I wasn't born handsome
Now that my life's complete with a capacity to push greatness buttons
With beats that have to be registered
As sex offenders represented to the public
I'll exfoliate your face with the acid inside my stomach
Binge and purge, we live in thirty second blurbs
And if consumers stopped existing we'd forget how to use words
Just fuckin' eat each other til the next ice age occurs
Or at the Source Awards scratchin' our heads like what happened
If the kids would've disclosed their true alarm if you just ask them
Out to plant life that sits and looks pretty
To attract curious insects and angels when in the city
That's below any self-respecting actress in a German scheisse film
Who gobbled donkey dick and human feces
My fingers tap buttons with sanctified awareness
From heart scan to pulse readings
This a voice from a dead dimension without astral projection
The sluggish rugged discuss bunk that hovers
Acme lab rat escape barely breathing through the heating vents
I'll try to come back for my family before the poison feeding commence
But if I should exhaust God's patience on some shit better take my place [???]
Tell 'em it's the love that got me this far
And it's in my dreams I see their faces in
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