Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dorks, artist - Aesop Rock. Album song The Impossible Kid, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.04.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Dorks |
Question: If I died in my apartment like a rat in a cage |
Would the neighbors smell the corpse before the cat ate my face? |
I used to floss the albatross like Daddy Kane with the chain |
I’m trying to jettison the ballast with the hazardous waste |
The kid is comfortably numb, routine a tedious crutch |
Steep in a self-imposed Stockholm and Lima in flux |
Maybe an occupation popular with demons and ducks |
Made any mingling akin to being seasoned and stuffed |
It’s a theatre of jumping jellyfish, jealous little sycophants |
Miserable and flimsy from the skippies to the pissy pants |
Each one separately convinced |
They’re sketching with Da Vinci’s hands |
Delusion turned the communication to prison camp |
You fucking dorks ain’t a threat to the cause |
There ain’t a lesson we can learn from the ostensibly lost |
I think it’s funny when defendants from identical haunts |
Step out the tempest, a measure of what the spectrum involves |
Maybe no one cares, party over here, I’ll be over there |
Don’t need no help, all by myself |
I used to hang around with rappers at the root of the scene |
It meant a lot to feel the fugitive community breathe |
Maybe to sentimentalize is to be truly naive |
I know some shit about your heroes that you wouldn’t believe |
I think we’re all a bunch of weirdos on a quest to belong |
The songs are echolocation up in impregnable fog |
That’s why it’s odd to see a pile of imperfections and flaws |
Ascend a pedestal to patronize the rest of the cogs |
In a mess of obnoxious fantasy, posturing and pageantry |
I ain’t even mad, I’m impressed, shit it’s baffling |
God almighty, chop an ivory tower to piano keys |
Play your own dirge on the way to surfing maggot beach |
You fuckin' dorks ain’t a source of the art |
You can’t be cooler than the corners |
Where you source all your parts |
The poker-faced, all it takes a couple sordid remarks |
We let the manticore out, We make the sorcery bark |
Life is so unfair, party over here, I’ll be over there |
Don’t need no help, all by myself |
I view the rattling of sabers like a show to expose |
Insecurities exploding in emotional code |
When braggadocio to go from mostly jokey to gross |
Corrode a homie 'til his probity is notably ghost |
Before the hobby was a job, he was a miniature hell |
You would wobble round your momma like an infant gazelle |
The disillusionment has truly been a difficult pill |
But you as anything menacing is a difficult sell |
In a whistle and bell-o-rama |
Black mollies that dress up like piranha |
It’s not even compelling melodrama |
It’s a comedy, somebody wanna shop you as a saga |
I’m very voluntarily persona non grata |
You fuckin' dorks ain’t the leaders we need |
This ain’t the medium for divas out to weasel and breed |
I’m offin' coffee with the paupers over tea with the queen |
Don’t make him show the regency what disobedient means |
Heavy load to bear, party over here, I’ll be over there |
Don’t need no help, all by myself |