[Intro: El-P]

Great Scott!

Def Jukies

You wanna get nasty with me?

You really wanna touch me there

Really want to touch you there, nasty little thing?

Yeah, yeah, one, two

They call me El-P, baby

C'mon you like that?

Great Scott!

[Verse: El-P]

I became toxic allotted in badly shaded cement fuselages

Of juvenile non-approval confusion and loosey smoker's school cut abandonment

Where great expected movement tossed itself to the brain otters

And shakily faded in my timeline to something honestly hard to stand in

Well if that's not a booby trap, I would muse, stepping on Nike Uptown abuse

Yeah the darkest blue swoosh and cathartic ruse faction of

A B-Boy enacted as truly city all-bomber

And my thoughts followed the color chart on the A-train country

Hovering under the A-Frame structures bloody

And if I closed my optics I could trace the lines lovely they said

"You'll start your life between pause tape slices and muddy

Kicks that lick the salt off your neck"

And it's more than apparent your portable parent with the built-in mic might like

Sinister syllable smart tongue more than your teachers do, that's

Two schools booted from on some dumb shit, young menaces, get the message

Bad medicine, restless, sad jettison rejection had to endith the lesson

I used to do an impression of Buff after lunch outside the cage

Making faces Kelley green with envy grimace, that's my gimmick

Went with truancy and the bad apple, and it slowly formed my spirit

So when I couldn't fit the scholastic structure of my peers I didn't fear it

(And it was) air brush on the pants leg and, name cut in the back of the head and

Cipher in the subway without money in my pocket then

Recognize this is the new truth, we refuse to suckle the empires ruse

Original box-cutter walker who talk to rebuild a new living proof

See me as a banshee, as the illest motherfucker since Oedipus

Monkey number one million with a typewriter, flipping tempest text evidence

Simple-headed vagrants try to chase where Forrest's feather went

Darts exit us, and still leave enough alive to join the exodus

Fresh as fuck, best of luck, better lead banality rally quest

Stuck writer might flip, vroom! Excitebike bitch

Enter the hellafied Fat-Boys-slash-BDP hybrid founder of militant anti-mime faction

Operate on the fringes of establishment, binge on erratic shit, fabric knit

Got you riverdancing in lederhosen for woodchips

Step into the Def Jux office auditions like: "sausage"

Jam Master Jay would've shot you (I stopped him)

Sorcerer, nitroglycerin in truck driving through rainforest unstable

Rawkus was like, "we're gonna take this label to another level"

(Fuck that) I'm gonna take this level to another label

Anti-pop composer, sonically robbing the nation

When I strap on a blue cardigan we can be neighbors (doo-doo lasers)

Water douse fire now, fire bad, fire blank at bastard Bladerunner bliss

Shot given (miss), another bargain bin opportunity moment clipped

I was a B-Boy once, I really gave a fuck (still do)

When you were trading episodes at Lazer Tag Academy

I was applying for most sinister mister brainfuck crown confront

The loudest son of the transistor rubble box damage and shit like open-handed palm brandishing

Letting the hurt live where it landed, like that

[Hook: El-P + Rob Sonic & El-P]

This is for New Jacks trying to decide where they fit (get busy)

Destroy the walls when you spit

For writers with a Krylon image brain print (translate it)

Leave your name dripping from bricks

For cats who covet fame with my name on their lips (re-think it)

You're sucking poison milk from fake tits

This is for kids worried about the apocalypse (do something)

Prepare yourself and stop talking shit