[Hook - Onry Ozzborn]
Poor Pavel
Even though your mom’s a model
You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle
Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat
So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house
Can’t you see, see?
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

[Verse 1 - Onry Ozzborn]
I’m Florian Schneider
A valеdictorian choreographing psyche mental bindеrs
The trapper with the velcro go with the flow like bouncing ball reminders
We out here, we giveth, we taketh away if you are cruel not kinder
Influencer insider, what a time this is
Where the business-minded hybrid lives
Where dreams may come and go
Where the wild things lurk and do they biz
In Hoff-like, environment
Goth spikes, retirement
Moth dust, colodipen
Shook ones, try again
My philosophy lingo
My wardrobe was forged by God herself
I’m a God myself though
Imma guide myself, don’t need no help
We encompass those trumpets you hear
In clouds and also bells outwardly
Forensic Files on the Vatican tiles or mob wives devour thee
A striking resemblance to Cersei, they bitch face, we bitch face
They witch mage, which witch page will you end up on?
‘Cause we on the front (page)
The small winded version of farewells and so longs
From us to those who tend to carry on in they merry song
[Hook - Onry Ozzborn]
Poor Pavel
Even though your mom’s a model
You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle
Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat
So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house
Can’t you see, see?
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

[Verse 2 - Rob Sonic]
My pits smell like an Arthur Ave deli
My wits end in a larger cat’s belly
My starter cap's filthy and my angel’s got eyes
On the butterscotch cookies and the tabletop pies
Wave the loss bye, another week without weddings
My caterers are laborers or beaten down weapons
And acid-washed denims in their emblems don’t match
So we feed ‘em to the heathens that are several rows back
Get the Bozack Morris Day, nothing but time
To waste away the database and cut in lunch lines
Coming up blind in the bamboo garage
With some old 45s and a brand new Naväge
King commérage, keep the stardust glitters
My elbows turn to jello in my spark plug slippers
If Karma’s such a bitch I wish she settled this shit
With them Scooby Doo zealots and them meddling kids
[Hook - Onry Ozzborn]
Poor Pavel
Even though your mom’s a model
You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle
Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat
So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house
Can’t you see, see?
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Some others are attached to what we saying here Pavel
Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

[Verse 3 - Aesop Rock]
(Aye) If I’m horizontal eight hours on a thousand nails
Waking up is more than putting piss into the howling gales
It’s howling back and how to zero in on whence the alpha hails
Smoke ‘em out, show ‘em what a little cat and mouse entails
Or we can fast forward to a feline full of mouse entrails
The tail hanging from his mouth, turn a bouncer pale
The bones floating in his vomit turn a bully green
You sweating bullets homie, pull up, I start pulling weeds
No-dozer, home with drones over
Old stoner, crows on both shoulders
Skeleton boat rowers scind the city on shorely
Breaking down doors, swinging oars at support beams
Throwing horns up, jumping on parked cars
Fork out, support team looking like tartare
Birds eye on the fires for the final shot
Dark star brightest, Dark Time Sunshine o’clock