[Verse 1]

Living with this shit so consistent in my history; don't tell me, “read a primary source”

Withhold quibbles, I’m a scribe of the physical world

Little remorse while commissioning a missing-from-the-library lore

Walk the route; nom de plume on the back of the sign

Illicit rendezvous; split, clapped with a fine

Adjudicating fractal designs, crime with the mop tip

For sweeping under the rugged written test

Fork in the scaffolding, bludgeon it ‘til it's picaresque

Well-intentioned pupils and understudies to intercept

Savants lit my rebuttal up with a cigarette

Bankteller asks me why I have to pre-write my own signature

Not used to the government tags

But fluent in arcane symbols and sketching out integers

Can't build this tradition orally

Word of mouth is the perfect sound for the kill switch from the authority

Keep account of my faint existence folklorically

Tunnel vision on the etched-in blemishes, you know it’s not the only way to look though

Tryna flesh out the subaltern world by embellishing the sterile with my footnotes

[Verse 2]

Skin-punching needle much to their chagrin

Stuck with the locksmith

Threads of decrepit records chucked in the dustbin

Rocks kicking little tops drilling mosh pits, but

Wrinkled flesh with the cobwebs wrapped, so it's pulled tight

Black and blanco fades to green and mestizo

Chop an arboretum up with a dull knife

What do those tattoos really mean to you?

Did you read my rigor mortis forehead yet?

Torso's a Rorschach Test

Fresh blood, I bore that crest

From a historical perspective, corporal permanence is rigid format's death

Rest in corrupted coating; picked off the only living Lorax left

[Outro]

Let the wretched relics drench me from my head to my toes

There's not a speck of respectable ways

Walking barbarity etched into stone

Let the wretched relics drench me from my head to my toes

There's not a speck of respectable ways

Walking barbarity etched into stone