[Intro]

Impossible Kid, 4/29

Just some shit

[Verse 1]

Three's company, Appetite for Destruction tee

Chunky Monkey, Funyuns, I can feel the cat judging me

Please, I've seen you eat your puke and drink the toilet water

Which completely renders your opinion void, you little fucker

Poison puffers hit the reef, hissing through their missing teeth

Pissy like a Minotaur with six hours in the middle seat

Or middle schoolers protesting the mystery meat and Catcher ban

Castaways walk into the same light as Carol Ann

Dagger in his teeth and treat a rapper like a rack of lamb

His allergy is middling, his middle finger's Plastic Man

Dag, they want a de-radicalized youth

Though it sort of undermines the magic of high noon

My right hand writing a diary of the dodgy

I do the wrong thing when all the right people are watching

It's a medley of defiance and outfoxing

Born in a storm's eye alongside Long Island swamp kings

Bonk, shoegaze rap, get your blue suede

Get used to the goofy get-a-clue face

Jump into the goon goose chase, try the Kool-Aid

Try the blue plate, it tastes like doomsday

Off-leash gryphons at the Westminster Kennel Club

As vessels of Beelzebub bite the hand that belly-rub

Lug it to the belfry, keep the pups alive and healthy

We, as hunters, treat the summers like a mother ripe for milking

Up and feeding Alexander Pardee art into the silk-screen

Still here, sleeping with the lights on and quill near

Tour van, corpse paint, war moon

Make the bass wobble like a two-man horse suit

Dork-proof, type to forge a sword in his dorm room

Break fiends, drain threes from the warp tube

Long tooth, short fuse, Stormtroopers over John Zorn loops

If you ain't core, it ain't for you

Trolls, bubbling from the lows

Want nothing but to run him for the bulk of what he owns

Homie, all of this material ain't shit to me, the trinketry

The filigree, the antiquated theories of validity

I never really cared for the cars

The Point A-to-B sounds scared when it starts

Trash can fire in the middle of the crib

Where the coven swap recipes and riddles from the crypt

It's monsoon season, keep the log flumes leanin'

Religious paranoia get the Doc Seuss treatment

Breaking out the Bronx Zoo, tabletop the Mongoose

Grey fade; ain't afraid to knock a few cogs loose

I'm from where it's "Defense!" on three

And anybody with a fucking brain bump Sean P

Old boy, might combine the carve with the stalefish

All aboard the mid-life snail's pace tailspin

You were busy authoring the holy grail of mailed-in

I was busy snow, sleet, heavy rain, hail, wind

Ready, aim, fail shit, it's Hail Marys everywhere

Over all the petty shit, under all the messy hair

I'm (Untouchable, uncrushable) plus ill

We don't need another hero, we just want our cups filled

I'm Trivial Pursuit cards at the 40/40; buzzkill

Aesop Rock, code name: "Yo, son, chill"