Firstly the original song is by Bomb the bass
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here are the complete lyrics to their original plus the chopped up version that the prodigy used below it. These lyrics make sense because of the references in them to the book/movie 'Naked Lunch' and various other music history of the time it was written.
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[I think it’s time to discuss your … ah …
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Philosophy of drug use as it relates to artistic endeavors]
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Check it, yo!
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I always hit the tape with the rough road styles
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You heard the psychdelic and ya came from miles
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Keep my rhymes thick like a Guinness brew
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So you could call me black and tan when I'm a wreckin' a crew
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I'm like Bill Lee writing when he's in Tangiers
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And now I'm on a soul safari with my Beatnik peers
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Analog reel and a little distortion
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Smokin' on suckers you could say I'm scorchin'
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I never been the type to brag but beware
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I'll make a man burn his draft card like it was Hair
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Send ya up the river like you lookin' for Kurtz
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I got the mugwump jism up in every verse
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I always hit the apple when I'm going to shoot
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So you could call me William Tell or Agent Cooper to boot
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Mr. Mojo Risin' on the case again
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So tell your mother and your sister and your sister's friends
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Like an exterminator running low on dust
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I'm bug powder itchin' and I can't be trust
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Interzone trippin' and I'm off to Annexia
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I gotta get a typewriter that's sexier
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My name is Justin and that's all that's it
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And I'll be spittin' rhymes wicked like it ain't no shit
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Houses of the Holy like Jimmy Page
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But the song remains the same so I'm stuck in a rage
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Just like Jane when she's going to Spain
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I think I'm going away tomorrow, just a fool in the rain
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Light up the candles and bless the room
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I'm paranoid, snow blind, just a black meat fool
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(Refrain 2x)
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Bug powder dust an' mugwump jism
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And the wild boys runnin' 'round Interzone trippin'
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Letter to control about the Big Brother
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Try like hard to not blow my cover
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Never been a fake and I'm never phony
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I got more flavour than a packet of macaroni
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Rock drippin' from my every vowel
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I've got the soul of the sixties like Ginsberg's Howl
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Shootin' mad ball and I'm always jukin'
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Take you to the hole and I'm surely hoopin'
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Top of the pops like The Lulu Show
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I'll take a walk on Abbey Road with my shoes off, so
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I got a splinter though, damn, you know man it hurt
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I got a Vegemite sandwich from Men at Work
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I keep minds in line, but time sublimes,
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So when you search you find something like a gold mine
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A psychedelic meanderings in the poem
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I got a patter, patter anyplace that I roam
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Waiting for the sun on a Spanish caravan
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Solar eclipse and I'm feeling like starin' man
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(Refrain 2x)
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Who's that man in the windowpane
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Got somethin' on his tongue and it's startin' to stain
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Sho' nuff equip so wop n'get down
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Step up on my ladder and you'll get beat down
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Hash bar style so I'm singin' day glow
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Wakin' up the dead like Serpent and the Rainbow
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Jeff Spicoli roll me another hay
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The Fish that Saved Pittsburgh with Dr. J
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Shockin' your ass like a faulty vibrator
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Hear me now, but you'll probably get the vibe later
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Who knows where the wicked wind blows
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Que sera sera, I just leave it alone
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Great Space Coaster toast up the town ticker
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Makin' midgets with my man Dr. Shrinker
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Pass the hookah, throw down the pillows
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Cloth on the ceiling, blow rings that billows
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Kick off the shoes and relax your feet
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Now roll up your sleeves for this lyrical treat
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[I think it’s time for you boys to share my last taste of the true black meat. The flesh of the giant aquatic brazillian centipede]
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Prodigy version
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[I think it’s time to discuss your … ah …
|
Philosophy of drug use as it relates to artistic endeavors]
|
|
Check it, yo!
|
I always hit the tape with the rough road styles
|
You heard the psychdelic and ya came from miles
|
Keep my rhymes thick like a Guinness brew
|
So you could call me black and tan when I'm a wreckin' a crew
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I'm like Bill Lee writing when he's in Tangiers
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| And now I'm on |
