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El-P
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Accidents Don't Happen
Lyricist:Jaime Meline
Yo, I touch with rusted clutch, then spun out of the dust And careen into the temples of automated destruct Nano-tech, bugs in the blood, get unplugged Fishing for the fly, shit, hybrid
I run among the mud skipper swarms through warnings And good morning Beirut's Little Billy Blunderbuss looking for more recruits City life is practice casket truancy
That's the rule of you and me, brash unmasked lunacy Friends used to laugh fast, grasped little truth from me Now they check their bags with a staff claspin' Uzi's Who deserves the wrath without warning
The same sky for the martyr with a spork Scorch New York forfeits Run among the poppy fields order some more clips Store trips are weird but the fear is force less
Bloomey bought the city of Lego and shitty metal hull Jitters to the floor boards burnt almost aborted Flight of the accidental tourist, morbid The advertising gods so oddly courtship
Godly corporate squads plot these tortures Holiness is hard and it's costing God, fortunes (Guess he took a second job on the force to afford it) I don't want a part of these self-fulfilled prophecies
Man it's too much for my stubbornness, I hate the people runnin', shit Now if you sleep at ground '0', below Wishing you peaceful sleep, where horror on the surface
Emerges less frequently metal bars of ancient Rome Dissolved from the scenery (Now what the fuck) I'll take a hostage and walk through the mosh pit
Pristine untouched, NB seven-zero-three's untouched Trust is a commodity crushed by pol pottery Your cookie cutter laws contain flaws in philosophy Tumbling down a flight of Escher Bach steps delight
'Cause the man who raped my sister won't sleep right tonight Now I suppose the pretty horses in fours could love more But I'm exhausted by the scope of this dark god on opiates Breakfast for dystopia ruthless hope movements Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Seasonal and festive the butchery's lookin' good And now writers block is a prison camp, where free press regress Now you can hypnotize the herd, I'm alive with fly visions That attack like Alfred Hitchcock, raising rabid carrier pigeons
True the only form of com Not tapped is trapped strong In the cranium of future rebel infants whistling the song I know you're listening, get down with this bitch, whistle along
It's like the Bilderburgs came to dinner with filthy birds They pussy all infected I'm lookin' for milky words They pulled my third eye out, then they let it dry out Had to pour my belief in Christ to find out
What I look like with no skin who man-dated While the back of my paper is still luminated Even your no flipped Egyptian Euro Got my website shut down by the bureau
Can't kick it with the dead, until my life, stop But bush got a Ouija to talk to Adam Weishaupt I breath artist time fans the artist Put a couple g's together before harvest light
I'll take all this, the hell I'm doin'? Dippin' this whole fuckin' pound in embalmin' fluids You think I rhyme to do it? if it's on point Shot is, if you can't help but sleep peel off your eyelids
It's the year 2010, you can say what you want But I bet, if you light this blunt, dummy, the feds'll come runnin' Lock you up, lock you out, you ain't tryin' to listen Cameras in your food, dude, look they're trying to listen
Lock you up, lock you out, we got bugs in the house We're being monitored, they know we got thugs in the house Don't light your blunt, bitch, they'll hit you with a switch Hit you with a beam, hit you in the brain, make you go totally insane
Wild out, guns in the spot, flippin' on you niggas They take you out, then the feds push guns on the roof They take 'em out, melt you out 'cause you know too much After that you know your ho's get touched
Look, then the meaning starts Download your chip to a memory card Give your chips and send 'em to a city job
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