Touch The Cloth

By Stice

On Stice’s Satyricon

Released on August 24, 2021

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[Intro]

Give me what I need

Give me what I goddamn need

Cutter in the bag

Whittle down an onion

Let 'em know I'm very, very, very, very thin


[Verse 1]

Open up, give it up

Gonna ride all night, now giddy up

You and me, little ass don't give a fuck

Tip-top in the sun with a rubber duck

Puzzle guts, pissing shit in a gutter love

What? Yo, guts, why you singing? Keep your mouth shut

Putt-putt-putt, last week, I was shriveled up

Too freaky 'cause we both got suey guts

Suey guts, suey guts

Suey got chopped 'cause he almost bit a nut

Baby got crossed 'cause you know I can't eat nothing

Open up, give it out

Cough three times 'causе you know I'm not living well

Chop Suzuki, got one for the bag, three for thе pill

Tree in my ass, say, "I heart Phil"

Hey, Phil

What a guy, what a friend, what a meal

Too bad everything that I had looked just as it did when it came from the rear

And mad that the thing that I got bubbles up every time when I have six beers

It's all in the figment, pig meat food that I ought when the thought was scared

And it's clear that it all looks suspicious from the lens of the scarlet ring

Two for the head, two for the hair

Two for the hand, two for the staff

One for the eye, none for the rear


[Refrain]

Give me it, give me

Give me piece of the cloth

Give me all that you ought

Give me shit, give me piss, give me moss

Give me all that you are

Give me shit, give me piss, give me moss

Give me all that you are


[Verse 2]

Now give me right back with a got (Two got)

Two naught with a nice, big heart

You sure look scared, but you don't look smart

Crippled my folks, but not what shot, not right (Two got)

Give it right back 'cause it don't look hard

Yeah, it don't look right

Yeah, it don't make it right

Make the exit tight


[Verse 3]

Hello, aspartame crunch

So long, unyielding hunch

The boogie board bunch mistook my friend for one free lunch

And there, I met my dental punch

Who scried my face a wincing scrunch

Now no longer will I munch on breakfast, brunch, dinner or luncheons

Won't smile at family functions

Cousins, dad, and Uncle Bumpkins

Moms and aunties and the munchkins

Laughing at my tooth's assumption

That its brothers loved its gumption

Rot and shake the gummy stantion

Planted in my big mouth's mansion

It could cast the mold's expansion

Without fear of shame or lancing

But did it see the slow advancing

Of two wicked canine captains?

Who lick-whipped my bad tooth's dancing

To cheers of "Kill him, cave his ass in"

I tasted battle, felt tongue moisten

With the blood of bad tooth poison

And with cannon of my gut

I spit the bad tooth right clean out