[Chorus: Boots Riley]
There's a monsoon under my skin
There's a monster under my skin
There's a street brawl under my skin
Will you get under my skin?
[Verse 1: Boots Riley]
I take my martini dirty like three hop fiends who rentin' one telly
I want it shook like a man who just got shot in the belly
Make it smoky like his mama's voice screamin' for her baby
And on the rocks like Funkadelic in the 90s and 80s
I drink slowly and the sips sneak over my tongue
Like prisoners over gates before the dobermans come
I was born double-fisted but I'm holdin in one
And when I take a shot it burns like a smolderin' sun
And then its alcohol to vein, ethanol to brain
This moment is a get without the tinted cellophane
I don't need no soda mixer, just give me the cold elixer
Hustler's know that hunger is just murder's sexy older sister
Vocalist or orator, duck and clear the corridor
Some drink it neat like the jacket on a coroner
I go ape, my best friend is Dora the Explorador
That line was dope, I had to smuggle it through Florida
Arriba, abajo, al centro, al dentro
If they don't open up the gates, we all gon' go mental
Bottoms up until we all are free
And there'll be some for the homies and some for me
There's a monsoon under my skin
There's a monster under my skin
There's a street brawl under my skin
Will you get under my skin?
[Verse 1: Boots Riley]
I take my martini dirty like three hop fiends who rentin' one telly
I want it shook like a man who just got shot in the belly
Make it smoky like his mama's voice screamin' for her baby
And on the rocks like Funkadelic in the 90s and 80s
I drink slowly and the sips sneak over my tongue
Like prisoners over gates before the dobermans come
I was born double-fisted but I'm holdin in one
And when I take a shot it burns like a smolderin' sun
And then its alcohol to vein, ethanol to brain
This moment is a get without the tinted cellophane
I don't need no soda mixer, just give me the cold elixer
Hustler's know that hunger is just murder's sexy older sister
Vocalist or orator, duck and clear the corridor
Some drink it neat like the jacket on a coroner
I go ape, my best friend is Dora the Explorador
That line was dope, I had to smuggle it through Florida
Arriba, abajo, al centro, al dentro
If they don't open up the gates, we all gon' go mental
Bottoms up until we all are free
And there'll be some for the homies and some for me
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