Who's that walking with a hole in his head?
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Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread.
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What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
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I tell 'em...... ah fuck it, yo
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I pull the elephant tranq out of my neck,
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gaffle a tank,
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count up the chips,
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wrastle the fangs off of my fist,
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flood a little soldier blood over the ogre acres
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on some holiday in Cambodia with motor home appraisers.
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Pagans fade into the kodochrome now,
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later with a lid to brow staple
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revisit the cobra loading zone.
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Molar foaming
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but he hold his own wound
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cauterized by the Zippo he had stole that afternoon.
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And my dog tags jingle by the monster island heart he built.
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Grew up with a Jug head crown tilt and tardy slip.
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Be all you can be just never soothed us.
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You lost me in that part about scrubbing piss with a toothbrush.
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Holler scum's lullaby.
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Live from the ultra-fly
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sham city bunker where the coldest cults multiply
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alarmingly. Hush little baby, timeout.
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The black market mockingbirds cannot sing a lick but lean to peck your eyes out
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of commission with love,
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out a tradition of wraiths
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pick on the visions that buzz,
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bet on the kitten's escape,
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solder the piston to pump
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out a veteran amplifier.
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And magnify through the same lens that set the ants on fire.
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Flush the Muppet hootenanny. Who could fancy honor circuit
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when the circle's every duke is claiming Trooper, scoop the food in pantry.
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Ante up, stupid.
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May delusion feed 'em roofie candy and pry the gold out of his tooth when laughing.
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Pocket all you can now.
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Block and lead the lambs down
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to the cold cutlery outfit.
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Slaughter beef and cow tip.
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Pour the chief some fountain soda,
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motor prone to pen the holy opus
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and pry this monkey off the scoliosis.
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Who's that walking with a hole in his head?
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Bazooka Tooth, Gemini, I came to break bread.
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What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
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I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives, lets go
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Fast cars, danger, fire and knives... (3x)
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I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed
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Its like never mind the bullocks. (Fuck)
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Like every other week these hipster tabloids jumping on and off my sex pistol's bullets.
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Like every other week he spins the bottle.
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Like every other week these fucking fanzines forget if they spit or swallow.
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Too bad your inner sheep never forgets to follow,
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cuz my inner greed to feed your hate for loving us is hostile.
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Fortunate for me it coincides with what comes natural,
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so the mongrels that I run with turn the fuck yous into fast food.
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Like a little freak sick of the 3 o'clock bully knuckle dust, nursing his last shiner, finds the shoebox in his mother's truck.
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Tomorrow's extra curricular punching bag
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will finger daddy's widow maker out a brown lunch bag (bang!).
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This is where the hunch back
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snake oil peddlers
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stuck under the burgundy sky of spaghetti westerns
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tend to bubble up.
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Weathermen huddle up.
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Today the son of one too many 'yes sir's kings his checkers,
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watch the double jump.
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Back with a platter of hot leeches that'll drink up-every bloody drop down to the last diseases,
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it's A-E-S-O-P-R-O-C-K,
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the peak twister.
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Defender of the son of Vaughn Bode's Cheech Wizard.
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I used to pray the treatments got easier with my aging
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like serotonin weekends was merely comedic hazing.
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Wrong, but along his travels located the key to world peace:
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¡°kill every motherfucker but me.¡±
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You cool with that?
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Cool. Bang.
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You?
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Cool. Hang.
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You?
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No?
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Uh... bang?
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Cool.
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Sorry, dog, rules are rules.
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And too long have I followed yours. I'm trying to get them years back,
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and walk through every cipher with dynamite in a beer hat.
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Who's that walking with a hole in his head?
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Bazooka Tooth Krueger, I came to break bread.
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What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
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I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives.
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Fast cars, danger, fire and knives...
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I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed
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-----------------
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Fast Cars
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| Aesop Rock |
