[Verse 1: Edward Scissortounge]
Check
I've tried to fathom all the ways in which the world is backwards, and tackle the madness with a silver hammer, smash it out
But the trouble is that my discoveries are so fucked and ugly, that I sprint away faster than the speed of sound
Outer city limits hide the secrets of the silent crowd, so I'm striding further 'til the silence is the only sound
Our village idiots are playing basket ball with volley-balls, and shooting hoops at shabby bottle crates on muddy grounds
A microcosm of the fact that life is hyper-rotten, typin' in an office 'bout some bullshit tryna make some cash
And looking round at suits and ties and peeps resigned to spending every living day living like rats and burning atlas maps
And I fucking hate the fact that people sit and mind their own in packed establishments and feign acknowledgements of swapping facts
To the point where I start thinking crazy thoughts along the lines of pulling guns like Columbine and shooting all those fucking twats
Man I wished the planets crashed and left a lonely habitat, where peeps could actually decide what happened in their history
But shit, the sickest thing is the survivors of the crash would probably inspire me to still embark upon a killing spree
My periphery is sick of seeing all these stupid human beings shooting semen 'till the population's super high
Man I swear the planet cannot handle all these addicts, soon the sky will vanish into darkness or mankind is paralyzed
A sanitized and bubble-wrapped existence where the Hubble tracks the micro-systems of the population living every day
And keeping tabs on scallywags like Edward Scissortounge in search for secret code words in the verses that he generates
This generation is glued to the television for days, a marathon of debauchery that I cannot translate
My giant lake's alive in flames
A microphone describes the ways that Mister Edward Scissortounge sits on it and procrastinates

[Verse 2: Dirty Dike]
I daydream pace and escapism baby
And maybe it may seem hate didn't change me
I rate being lazy and lay about blazed in a cloud ridden shade spitting out little grape seeds
So women shout if you hate me (Hey!)
I know I rate being hateful on tapes to the ladies
But I'm James and I can't really change if you paid me
I'll dance in the shame 'till I'm 80
Man fuck it
I'd rather shine some floors
Than write shit rhymes, lie, try and hide my thoughts
You can sit wise rich, fucking ride your horse
I've got a shit little bike and a five's a draw
This life's a bore and I'm still trynna find peace
Highly unlikely
Still trynna write deep lines in a beehive
We lick and find sweet people behind me
Speak if you're lively
[Verse 3: Jam Baxter]
There ain't nothin' like a 9 to 5 to merk your creative verse
The life and times of Jake emerged
Where Brighton's bright lights the jade that burns
Collate the dirt and arrive in the naked earth, today
I live life in a hazy blur
Blazed, immersed in chasing a faceless skirt
So wait your turn to pray for your savior, sir
The flames'll burn for days in your paper church
My brain'd burst if it just had the guts to
I'd escape the world if I just had the funds to
I'm stuck hittin' undo, undo, undo
But 'control-z' never worked like the drugs do
Trust who? When your fucking lust has become you
Bun you, you haven't got the time anymore
Let me fly, set a course to the sky from the floor
And I'll soar from this island of violence and war
And the warbling sirens prized from the jaws of my former confinement
You died to conform them
Rise from your morgue as the kids cower, hell-bound
Pilot your thoughts to a twin-tower meltdown
This is how sweat sounds dripping from a prang fist
Swimming in a sandpit
Missing his Atlantis
That's rich, coming from the head of a Gremlin
Man there's too many steps and I'm ever descending