AJOUTER PAROLES
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Attaboy
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Aesop Rock
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Hi everybody, hope you’re doing well Today I want to talk to you about the different levels of the spirit world I been floating down the River Styx Skipper cap, sipping on what’s missing from your mini fridge Insulated slicker dripping winter like it’s Britney bitch Crops wither, docks splinter into popsicle sticks Beyond the hissy fit, he aim for the hound dog I’m Bamm-Bamm, pianos fall on me and bounce off Vampyrella riding pillion through the even tide Indecency that deck the halls, an eye in each Venetian blind I’m beat into the Venus fly, ears back and hackles up Shift in with the shadow play, I show ’em how to rabbit hunt It helps if you’re particularly paranoid Enough to know there’s no such thing as an extraction point Attaboy, I’m a sucker for stolen bases Bathing in open ocean and shaving in Mobil stations Away from the hocus pocus The nauseating social codes and motives The homies demoted to interlopers Look, I can help you tumble through the galaxy Somersaulting backwards in a vacuous finality Shabby chic, overnight a fireball from magic camp Inspired by a bonsai flying to Manhattan clam No hands, pissing off the ferry, mission ready The flesh and blood are present while the rest is vision questing Plugged in, gloves off, shushing all tough talk Nowhere to be found at the trust fall I’m saying “fuck y’all”, live and direct I make a Judas shoot a flare up from the isle of the dead I got a network in the netherworld I seldom reveal It get a threat to get to stepping out my energy field Behold the nobody who show up uninvited like his chute failed Blue-streak speak in minor pentatonic blues scale Doors blast open for the never not backlit Never not eradicating pathogens Ratcatcher capture both the flag and the bannermen Batter up, throw a badass to the basilisk Throw a fucking crab off a mountain top Free freefalling with the shuttle parts and flowerpots Odd hours, I’m up with the spotted owls Spot a coward in the commons how he spot a common mouse At a half mile, last-minute mohawk Eyes closed, ear to the road salt, all I hear is Mozart Gale force winds whipping through your floppy hat Glitch in hologram, trick any polygraph Chocolate from the faucet, fish in the lava lamp Sofa on the ceiling only come down for karate class I’m in pajama bottoms listening to Chaka Khan Eating my [?] knocking posses out the polygon I see who proper hobnobbing with the la-di-da That kind of shit is simply not the way I pop and lock
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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