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El-P

The Nang, the Front, the Bush, and Shit

  hip-hop  underground hip-hop  hip hop  def jux  rap
351,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни El-P - The Nang, the Front, the Bush, and Shit

El-P - The Nang, the Front, the Bush, and Shit слова песни

(Pass me the tiger piss)I tunnel rat into the hidden habits of collage dog infernoNo turning paths back(charlie attack!)The half man have orders to burn the villageAnd come out with both hands intactI`m not a mechanism born from disdain, I had to be trainedNow I catcall with dead walkersI`ll send a postcard form the NangIf I can get onto the roof in time to hangFrom the leg of this last chopperSon of an obese burner perturbed to grow in a rowOf rotating blood colors on brick texturesAnd others modified climates make nasty tongue plunge(head shots)With opposite of chameleon blends from cartoon dreadnoughtsThere was this parasite inside my wide intestinal tractThat took over my bark box before I had a chance to take my life backAnd his deformed banter suprised me (where at?)At the recruiters office, learning how to get a head in advertisingHe said:"Sure, others have passed, this is a gate to definitionBut thats not the singular attraction to the setupNot the action or the sacrifice of past drafteesActually more of a layaway ducats planFor the young get up and go out motivatorsSee the new soldiers smolder differentFrom that antiquated taste of stately hatred"Well I came from melting options on the D train to the lobbySee academics played second in my lifeTo unmatriculated brain hobbiesAnd I admire the dedication to you ranksPlus want the trainingLoss is not a big problem it`s all about what I`d be gaining,"Well you`ll get power, respect, an audience, a check, a car, Money for school, honey with uniform fetish on your tool,You`ll travel, form bonds, be a part of somethinghave a structure, catch bullets..."(catch bullets?)"...I meant cash bonusSee this gold plaque, you could own itAfter killing half a millionIt`s such a good feelingTo earn your country`s respect and loveSo what do you say son, are you my man?"Fuck it, sign me upRock rock b boy, rock rock mangThe nang, the nang, the nang, the nangRock rock b boy, rock rock mangThe nang, the nang, the nang, the nangI`m not a mechanism born from disdain, I had to be trainedNow I cat call with dead walkersI`ll send a postcard form the NangIf I can get onto the roof in time to hangFrom the leg of this last chopperEmerson Lake Palmer aka dirty larva spray harderWhat a marvelous martyr maker50 gig tone hold old dusty digital makeupMelt with me slower this roundTechnical retardation sound round one sound the hardestHeartlessHeartless harvest, farthest, farenheit alottedThe hot shit, hopped up and shiftyShift shit sickly, monsterancient makeshift ministry mic on Nervous slur bomb teleprompter, sights onLaser head looks like a linguistfighter lights flurry down Rounds like a rationAllied force strandedStranded like a lord of the bugs and disbandedBetter bring the band aidsHustle shit fantasy gun talkErotic logic walks out of boxesDead thug hug slug, metal like moltenDe-evolve thug, crawl back in the oceanHoppy Horatio choke on broke potionBroke and most potent to float, flank the factsFace the fucks with flak jacketsJack of all tradeEmbargos, faded like `88 Kane fashionI`m back like packersMongoloid melody tracked backwards, broken into fragmentsWith terpuntine flows that broke down biblical tabletsBroken down handicapped cats leave in tractionThe breath of sick death leaves a chest convexed with no FSix steps to infected waste container miseryFat thighs chafe in the summer from humidity, humid unhumanBrains that bloom tulipsCaught between animal thoughts and what was taught by Confucious B-boy lucid, ugly motherfucker for faces of art addictsJust for my peoplePersecute plagiarist dangerous at a close rangeDose brains close to the rangeTo rope frames for the celebrity roastMost celebrity aspirations get tossed in the moatWith the mackerel, actual track catapultCorpses act animateWalk around the back yard munching on brain cabinetsSad but erraticIrregular predator with bad brain magicMagic is a Siegfried and Roy with boy specialBatter the tapestry with bruisesBorn to leak from alpine box in hot cruiser (straight bruiser)With chain mail coats and bullet proof chokersThe most you can hope is to only get half chokedThat`s half a jokeI`m adamant, AWOL to the last atomActive ax handler, handle hurt merchandiseFlirt, with inert word device devisedFormed pertinent tiesTied to word commando kids, riseShow me those New York eyesIsolation eats at the face of phrase bitersBite bleak void, small world big noiseSwallowed by void, wallow with toysHollow metal slugs penetratedJust demonstratedFuck your fake face I hate it

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