[Intro]
[?]
What program is that?
[Verse 1: billy woods]
Necromancer, dead dance for me
Hold the trees for ransom, the Lorax pay handsomely
Borax powder along the base board
Wait for war
Won't wait long, I waved 'em off
Man's wagers [?] sang a song
Line dancing and Jordan Rules
Put dudes under the stanchions
It's feet and hands if you really start scrambling
Rappers fight they fans like Malice in the Palace
Ain't enough popcorn you could hand them (they mad)
Coyote loping through a canyon
In the evening, the streets is abandoned to heathens
Labored breathing in mansions
Demons crouched atop a whore, shitting bricks
Sour milk in the gore
Bee-stung lips, fertility beads, Yoruba hips
A wisp of cannabis smoke curl out the window of the whip
Subtle how the wind shift
In the night, plantations burn with the wind, right?
Live your whole life like something stuck in your windpipe
Live like mice
Gave my daughter some advice: 'all dogs bite'
Really looked her in the eyes
Parasites flee when the host dies
Paradise to me, a spot that's outside, low-key
But you'd be surprised
You can't replace us with them
I'm telling you as a friend
(It's not gonna work)
[Interlude]
What program is that?
Yeah, maybe if we change the channel
That's funny, it's on all the channels
Tell them anything
No matter how long you tell them that-that Jesus ain't gonna help them
They gonna be there on Sunday talking about Jesus
What you gotta do is get Jesus to say something
[Verse 2: E L U C I D]
A church ain't a place for the people
Smoke inside the steeple
It's not that I didn't see you
Seeking, tracing Ursa Major
Speaking other tongue
Anybody in the cloud with a translation? (say something different)
From the mouth [?]
My guess as good as yours
Natural law, I lie anyway
Historically speaking
You might die before they put something on it
[?] scam likely
In the midnight hour
High-key humbuggery
Crazy bald-head non-cypher
Theoretical madness
Flag heretic
In the Afro-future industrial complex
Boo! Black bomb threat
Proof of concept
Fear your only constant
The machine runs itself
You may know the language but not enough to live
(you gotta get them to- to say something different)
Every overly earnest avatar is being long-winded for the sake of fart
Mark-ass niggas in European labels
I look good in leather too, not colonial bondage
Conscious is as conscious was
Ever-evolving counter
Just sophisticated savagery
In [?]-tailored suits
Sweet, nine millies in the millinery
Elder millennial, Achilles' aching
Charlie-horse, had to pull out
Left her pussy gaping
Gnipag yssup reh tfeL
Scrape your face to this
I rock a flat-top like Howlin' Wolf
Whirlwind through cities...