| At night I wear a wolf’s head on my regular head
|
| Consider an irregular character sketch
|
| Food hoarder, communes with the flora
|
| Computes in cahoots with beauty and brute force
|
| I’ve got a brand new normal at a thirty in New York, plus
|
| Years at the fire pulling portions out of corn husks
|
| Never mind time on the short bus
|
| Terrifying errant knights thwarting any motherfucking fork tongued-sport
|
| Agita flashing the hind molars, though his body less a weapon more a bag of
|
| lipomas
|
| Over medium, treat skin-tags like scratch-offs
|
| Rap like black-ops, rappers like lap dogs
|
| He got the rad moves, catty alpha rat-proof (wait)
|
| Twenty-sided die at the crap-shoot (wait)
|
| Looking for a black hole to casually collapse through
|
| Try aisle nine by the cat food
|
| There it is
|
| Ooh wee, do we roast in a bilge, when the skinny from afar is «Thar be gold in
|
| them hills»
|
| Time better let a couple truths decay, or somebody going to rue the day
|
| Check, check, check
|
| Catch 'em on the lam
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| No maps, no muster point
|
| (Nah, I ain’t joking)
|
| I put a pebble on a tomb
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| Making bath tub meth
|
| I’m joking
|
| Here we go
|
| The whip got a tongue and teeth
|
| Too tough, two blood-shot eyes with a Tungsten bleep
|
| When any putrefying arrow wants your lungs in reach
|
| I field a vessel going zero to the fuck y’all think
|
| And when your function fails I’m on an undisclosed island
|
| Stroking exotic animals, open up rocket science
|
| Leaning a jewellers loupe over a stolen sock 'o diamonds
|
| Palm-made products a portrait of modern triumph, try us
|
| Back at the battering ram post-haste
|
| Cro-mags, wait till this Saturday plans grow legs
|
| All you hear is intermittent code names
|
| Ricochet around the geometry of a closed space
|
| Unfrozen part of his new J. O
|
| Face of divine evil, heart of Camu Tao
|
| Some people find the daylight to be oddly alluring
|
| I was in the dark, dodging and burning
|
| Maybe cause I look like an ugly doll
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| Pack a wallop in the wheelhouse
|
| (Nah, I ain’t joking)
|
| Leave brass tax everywhere
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| I own many many homes
|
| I’m joking
|
| Here we go
|
| All hock-tooie no costume
|
| Black hoodie you can set your watch to
|
| Tall drink, daps like an air raid
|
| Radically detach with purveyors of the hair-brain
|
| Down with the ship go a dozen fried wild links
|
| Upperway, upper-case tri-state style kings
|
| Get pie-faced, sent home tied to the sinewaves
|
| Lights off, spine on sideways
|
| Riding down the block, scooping Bobby in a boogie-down
|
| Tony told me tell 'em «Hello, 7:30 noodle-town»
|
| Cool 'em down, global domination over salt bake
|
| Situation comedy in broke dude cosplay
|
| You don’t want a meeting on an off-day trading horror stories from the hollows
|
| The summary is as follows:
|
| «These hate those and this thinks, that’s absurd»
|
| Yip yap, y’all cats and birds
|
| Meow meow meow meow meow
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| Talking rubes on the radio
|
| (Nah, I ain’t joking)
|
| Uh, suckers never play me
|
| (I ain’t joking)
|
| I found Jimmy Hoffa’s body
|
| I’m joking
|
| Here we go |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cat Food, artist - Aesop Rock. Album song Cat Food, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп