Oh, you do mutilate
We're gonna celebrate our emotional poverty
Giving answers all away
I painted my suitcase red for the reading
Which only ended in conversation break
All I want, genetic telephonic pills
Until the Spanish kids got so ill I was homeschooled
With a knife in my shoe
Never seen corpses act so cruel
The self-brutality was oh so angular
I made him a potion in a newspaper called
Smiled, gimme a shrug, said I was a f*ck up
Now I see your face selling Chinese urine
She came over the fence
With an argument in her head, no empathy
Escape strategy, I understood her
We were trying to share a genuine human moment
Just like the way they do in movies
I'm in a war with this suicidal depression
It's not the star I'm trying to call
I've been standing on this strand far too long y'all (far too long)
Go ahead, go ahead
Whatcha want?
Somebody that will slap away your blindness?
Whatcha want?
Somebody who will corrupt your heart with too much kindness?
Salute your Busta Rhyme-ness
She met a black man in Chicago
My superwoman licked it
I don't need a on that shit
I need something that works, motherf*cker
I wonder were you flattered
I tried to get you drunk
I know you're collecting disciples
I know you want to be the godmother of soul punk
Someday, someday
There are skyscrapers for you, Jane
Never use your given name
I wanna snatch you up for a sequel
Make you feel like godless people
Always knew you were special, your best friend told me he saw you crying
Everybody wants to crescendo, take home a memento
We tried isolate xx infinite pleasure x-y
I still want the family secret
Or a symptom of some wilderness hate
Ceremony custodian for experimental post-human relationships in fact
Tr to isolate xx infinite pleasure x-y
Ineffectually
I'm not allowed to show the pain
Not allowed to expose the pain
I still want the family secret
Or a symptom of some wilderness hate
Ceremony custodian or experimental post-human relationships in fact
We tried to isolate xx infinite pleasure x-y
Ineffectually
I'm not allowed to show the pain
Not allowed to expose the pain
All the white people from my neighborhood are dead
All the black people have turned pink for the winter
Everybody's searching for a cause, a reason to blow themselves up
Could be anything
When will certain people realize, an afterlife is nothing to live for
Nothing to die for, nothing to fight for
If those in this life are not sacred, then nothing that's a part of it is sacred either
If you think God is more important than your neighbor, you're capable of terrible evil
If you think some prophet's words are more important
Than your brother and your sister
You're ill and you're wrong
You're wrong