[Intro]

[Hook: El-P]
You've got a very soft vision of art
You've got a deficit disorder of heart
Thes are the wings of an endangered drum pattern
This is the flight of the hapless, you've got it all backwards

[Verse 1: El-P]
When Krush drops a fuckin' city buster, I call it the crowd rapist
Ace of base shitty, compounded to drown faces
Out of the ground basics, found in lost spaces
Ashamed of its own bass-line traces (that's pure hatred)
Perhaps the internet feeds your village fright (right)
I got the double ox wingspan dragon archetype tonight
The part that reflects light, the razor blade kite
Fuck it the rugged word, my immortal beloved
Got you suckin' off Muppet's for Bisquick and contracts and shit
Printed on the back of Triscuits and served rectally
(mumbling)
What a difference indifference can make
My bad chemistry chalks lines like little deranged johnny the terrain bum
Borderline fuck ya sound-bombing
I'm heated like broke days with nothing but noodle ramen and water
Water tainted, complaint filed time to transfer
Take me out, transfer denied, answer supplied as:
Stab 'em through the nipples with they own bitchy as rim-shots
I'm audio two basic combust with strange lust
With modus operandum and balk the funcrush
You box with soft touch, touched with soft tentacle
Tickle me sickly, sedate my brain quickly
So much slower the whole scenery seems
Moving through plasticine brackets backwards
After-burn full thrust monks react trackless
Come to confront funk slugs with salt tactics
Turn the Farrah Fawcett on and burn 'em in they mattress
Then ashes float to heaven quicker than souls of children
Murdered by a strange man in the basement of their building
Time to build time to be brazen with cane raisin'
The same faded disdain with a grain of insane patience
Patent that, fire in the sky, cataract eyes
This is nervous unnerving word-ship
Reported fortnights of journey through warning you
Secret pathfinder that cast of bad sitcom
The laugh track added to the last cat shit on
The audience claps like Dillenger gun masonic
Rounds falling down, trample the trespass sound
Ample distress, amp will get loud as Tourettes
From banshee with a megaphone, me-me-me-me-mega????
Hold the frequency, hold it unevenly, unsheathe the Jihad blade
And become animalistic
Authority walks the plank, that's implicit
The shambles of the gifted, dismantled and imprisoned
This is just a cf thought car derailed and resold as old feelings
To those with false motion
All potion, pour to parched hearts open
Casted out, sold out in the open
DJ fuckin' Len will leave the boom box dead
DJ Fuckin' KRUSH will make your children throw furniture
Learning disabilities spring from the scene
Like a recessive biter gene, ignited like a flare for all teams
Tall beams broken, bring down the foundation
Found in a pool of cess where the worms unnerve stations
FM is just a feminine breaks on rotation
Company Flow hold the mic naked, famous
Aside from murder touch, fuck with the once known divine style
Dummy droid noise for bad cats and basset
I enter like Aslan, demented and god-like
Odd mic clutched and chucked at glass structure
Sided to the funk with a working class rupture
Eat at that party of martyrs and pump action
Something to funk thumps with blood and duck fashion
Techno-spawn the last long-cock rhymer
Get with it, space-ghost the force soul weapon
Get with it, get got or got missing
[Hook: El-P]
You've got a very soft vision of art
You've got a deficit disorder of heart
These are the wings of an endangered drum pattern
This is the flight of the hapless, you've got it all backwards