[Verse 1: P.O.S.]
Check it out, sit-sit-still-I'm-sit-sittin
Sittin crooked like the scene sucks
Mean mugs aiming at my style like I'm clean from the face up
They probably treat me like I'm scored from the neck down
Urn full of clowns, no worth for them burn down
No disrespect, see I've observed them before
Both the words and the work
All hustle, no heart
They all hard, no hope, no scope to me
I'm all work canned out
P.O.S., even in the mix, even in the sticks, Midwest
"Easy with them bricks, we got kids where we live" shit
And I don't care how you feed yours...(?)
(?)...a little more than greed like explore, like shit
And respect my Clay Davis brains for days
Claim the same, remain aimless
And I ain't talking about getting a sweet Blow-J, Fucker
I am talking about reading
Like books

[Verse 2: PeeGee 13]
Lip-service spit circular when the shitstorm spiral
Lineup so sizable it's viral
We airborne toxin tutelage
So toot your little airhorn often and play possum for music biz
If bitches really ain't shit like the song went
Then bitches are good, or being shit is a compliment
The kid is just a monument to nuance
The nuclear option, nary a nincompoop could want some
The barn burn him behemoth, the weeds were barely illegal
In a speakeasy sippin a snifter or a speak-no-evil
There's bittersweet in a sentiment semiautomatic for the people
That's semiautobiographical as seen through a tenement keyhole
Young Cardigan, sleepwalking in
Degenerates conversations again
Friend, this is your awakening
Be it smelling salts or assault and battery
You're susceptible to supplemental tragedy
[Instrumental interlude]

[Verse 3: D.J. Zone]
Look at the way that we are makin em move
Psychedelic technicolor with Nixon on the tube
Or the time with the life that we
Have made for this to describe, analyze, and see
But xenophobics call me ColdWind
(No, Wind, you need to be quiet unless...)
Good gosh
Travelin with optimism and listenin you were captured, captivated
You never knew that it could feel like this, exaggerated
And overexceeds all expectations
Loving the lines of language and communications
Crossing your heart so many times that you feel impatient
Crossing your finger, figure it's a figment of imagination
(Congratulation, time is outta hand)
(?)...there's a lot more man
That's where I stand with plans to overtake the cynicism of man
Just stand careful, it'll overexpand, destroying contraband

[Verse 4: Aesop Rock]
Still teething, throw me something
Uh, hallowed be the aim of the arrows
Yeah the veiled brothers valor up the frame of the gallows
A couple gaudy thought bubbles up to clamor by the pittage
Shit, it must've looked like antlers from a distance
Tampered but then grew up thinking God was just a fist that hammers pigeons unforgivingly
Swung with a whimsical intermittency
We are on the heels of a measurable misfortune
Now a doorbell is an omen for a peace sign made of forceps
And I know the horsemen sorta got him torn
"Best if you endure something important" said the angels over organs on a morning of exorbitant reform
My morning is secured behind a corrugated cardboard arma
Hardcore deus orchestrate a heartworm farm
Buckle down and correlate and barnstorm more
I feel they Frankensteined us all together for a purpose
To openly square up against the frenzy's greatest circlers
Fuckin suckers