almost broke my nucleus accumbens (feat. R.A.P. Ferreira)

one, two

these is letters to editors, they point at the obvious

the articles out loud, scan it, deposit it

all time happens at once

i love all my habit and stunts, i took lumps not lessons

accepted every stupid condition

i don't know what to do with the prison, super positioned

getting lost in assorted flavors

or getting traded like i'm gordon hayward, the streets is named for important slavers

pockets full of bullet-addled wallets

my feelings hella little, i had to put 'em on some apple boxes

for the optics

we could sketch a little piggy's house, i'd draw the short straw every time

going through the motions like an empty-handed pantomime

on a dime, tina turner eat the cake and have it all, supposedly

father, i have sinned, i'll count the rosary beads

commit to ways and means or wants and needs

the tax man separates, i'll kill it if it bleeds

sweep the supermarket floors, cleanup in aisle four

shrink wrap and body bags plus a toe-tag for the morgue

in store, marked down forever 21 chromosomes

x and y, axis of evil resides, ask and ye shall provide, RZA and True collide

we the black men that struck bacon grease, the slaughterhouse of Vonnegut

big, bad Wolfenstein, to hell and back to jazz it up

get some more of me

how do i get some more of me? how do i get some more of me?

how do i get some more? yeah, how do i get some more of me?

how do i get some more of me? how do i get some more of me?

how do i get some more of me? how do i get some more? yeah

how do i get some more of me? how do i get some more of me?

how do i get some more of me? how do i get some more of me?

how do i get some more? yeah, how do i get some more of me?