[Hook: Aesop Rock]

You don't wanna be some old dude

Shaking a fist at the new bold youth

You were the new bold youth, now you some old dude

You don't wanna be some old dude

Wagging a finger at the new bold youth

You were the new bold youth, now you some old dude

[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]

And I know you know I'm sucker proof

Mediate the over under, leaning over onion soup

And soda... Armchairs, Underoos

Camera's on the entrances, TV's on The Bugaloos

Speaking of, what's up with you's? Y'all tried chilling?

No, whole time bow tie spinning, like "Hzzzzzz..."

Cough cough sputter, not to worry, there will always be another

I wanna say I nurtured all you little green settlings

But these lapses get the guillotine snapping, it's distracting

All-righty, play me what bumps

Yuck, I'm getting too old for this, shucks

Aes stay gold for this much

Gray and mostly tits up

Old man winter, eyes on the prize

Give the lowest of lives, the highest of fives

'Cause...

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Rob Sonic]

Wassup breezy, it's the brush fire

Put Vicks on my chest like I'm Russ Meyer

I love Breyers, but I'm dumb tired

When they say "based," I say "safe" like an umpire

They say waders are lame with the brush binder

Daryl Hall hair is bald as a bus tire

Janitorial and we're sore when his funk fibres

Start moving pip-squeaks like I'm Keith on a drum riser

Up in the club krumpin' - what up shorty?

"Yo, what are you, like 40?"

That's a whole other story with rips in the root page

And if age is just a number it's bugging it's room mates

Like dudes, keep it down you're driving me Bruce Wayne

And I'm three floors down and still hearing your 2Chainz

Oh that's One Direction well regardless dude

It's not Nas getting live at the barbecue

So tomorrow dude just keep the drama calm

Because it's not funny when you call me Big Papa John

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Busdriver]

I am not here at the Raise A Roof or Parallax for feral cats

I'm in the same age group as Darryl Mac

Ask these slender teens if the denture cream is in stock

Engendered of remembered dreams in my inbox

Of [???] denim jeans or Gwendoline's like, "Pick rocks"

Now my bum knee and limbs pop like rimshots

And twenty-something's hard to compromise movie tropes

While my aftershave is some homogenized Uzi smoke

So how can I optimize the booty stroke

While my sole possesion is a fossilized dookey rope

I mean I got etchings in my worry lines

But how the dream rings off the the precipice of thirty-nine

It's depressing, some pre-dating toe tags

Spell checking in a suicide note drafts

Y'all pull vintage tees out of them tote bags

I got a vintage me that is visibly cro-mag