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Bob’s Dementia
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Flying Lotus
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Bob's dementia Chapter one Now here lies a great man, a man of the people A man of the people, people (Yeah, oh) Yeah, here he comes, it's the highly unprofessional Hyper sexual, intellectual Fried my brain, now I've become a vegetable Travel with a gang of weird lookin' extraterrestrials (Mi-mi-mi-mi) They left me on their ship and made their b*t*hes call me "General" The d**k quake could make a b*t*h shake like she got Parkinson's You out there politickin', I'm studyin' Darwinism (God) I keep some bars and hit 'em like a hard collision (Bang) Don't f**k around it's murder in this art exhibit And I got the whole game on paralyzed 'cause my volume on amplified It's slow as a biracial b*t*h that's waitin' on her hair to dry (I don't wanna go yet) Are you prepared to die? Burnin' this Ameri-fry Where people that protect you are the ones that have you terrified I only act this way 'cause my soul so broken I'm the illest that you know, you a low dose Motrin Laryngitis, hepatitis, the AIDS virus I guess that's what you get from bein' 'round a bunch of rat vaginas And you (And you), you pu**y I wouldn't f**k with, a drunk d**k The day I came back from being hostage to the Russian mob Missin' a finger and see my brother shot (Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa) I'm comin' for your neck, so hide your head inside your mother's box (Motherf**ker) It still ain't cliche to say, "f**k the cops" (No) Let's try it ("f**k the cops") 'Cause I just smoked a bunch of rocks and walked around in just my socks And made myself a birthday cake with caramel and butterscotch
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