​milo
​milkdrunk
[Intro: milo]
Courtesy to Black blacksmith forge
From my hammer to yours

[Verse 1: milo]
Catch me on the south side nibbling Kallisti apples
My spaceship is missing axles as well as roses
The original snub nose is pressed against your liver
The mind is a black iron prison
If I go missing, tell the giver to be thankful
History unravelling at my cankles, ghosts have no right angles
Ay, I jot this as my son yell, just as loud as any gun shell
From the pistol of a ne'erdowell
It's a thousand pounds on my neck again, uh
Approach the beat like I guess I’ll catch wreck again
A most excellent specimen, must be held close to the light
Blue jean neophyte come here
Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style
Try to touch the Wahoo Monastery Style
They couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style (Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style)
Monastery Style (Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style)
Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style (Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style)
Couldn’t touch that, they couldn’t touch that (Couldn’t touch the Wahoo Monastery Style)
Oatmeal cookies in the Wahoo Monastery Style

[Verse 2: E L U C I D]
Space and sun, clean water, air we taste on the tongue
No faith in just one, make haste, get it done
Let me stretch out for a nano, it’s a blessing
They say stress will flip your Kangol, disrespectful like a motherfucker
I got a blood sucker in my family too, yeah, I’m talkin’ to you
Peep the stooge in the camo, this fuckin’ guy
Staring at your photo in the family album, no allowances
Smoking like a Howitzer, cactus needles in the bowels of the bowery
My services are hourly
I’d like to thank my son for just allowing me to model
What a privilege, it’s a honor
What a privilege, it’s a honor
If it ain’t in the pocket, it wasn’t mine
Stuck my dick in the socket, I gotta shine
Multiplying my option for true desires
Who but I, we and us who deputize you to decide when it’s enough?
I’m on the side I tan the life from out the sun, it’s that deep
Me not preach spook science, I’m just a tree bearing fruit
See who the ripest, idols in their everyday
Slowly, how he slipped away
Clouds of myrrh, hint of haze