Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mystery Fish, 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
Mystery Fish |
Tech support, feral army |
In a cave on a failed bit of terraforming |
4 corners of paranormal |
Get shorn for a thermos and pair of thermals |
In the warehouse air where his dairy curdles |
St. Vincent de Paul trying to square the circle |
Circle the source of his power |
Foresight born at the corner of Howard on sale |
Cherry pick blue in the pale |
It’s a blue-nose chewin' his tail |
Losing his coat |
Schmoozing a high and head-rush |
Hack up bile over H1N1, and then some |
One eye on the breadcrumbs |
Other eye on the Drencrom |
Other other eye on the income |
Good knife and a grin |
Shoot dice with the lice and the ring worms |
Peg leg, smells like Medellin wake in the night |
Make a pipe out of anything |
Take 5, take a dive in the cellophane |
Back out, black out somewhere fancy |
Shaped like the backseat of Aesop’s Camry |
Dude… seat full of chips and sandwich meat from the crypt |
In the end, if you give an address in a river of piss |
Don’t question the mystery fish |
Just picture shrimp on a pillow of grits |
Close your eyes, lick your lips |
I’m at the cafe ordering a cup of fresh |
Sarah gave me 2, I gave one to Rex |
He said, «Fools ain’t shit plus fuck the pigs |
They could never understand what Sumner is» |
(Word up, word up, word up) |
I’m off the grid |
I’m through the gate |
I fly these kites into the fray |
(Word up, word up, word up) |
I’m out the box |
I’m through the mud |
I fly these kites into the cut |
NorCal fried bacteria |
No ID survive the vivarium |
Try soft wheels, sourdough and heroin |
Eat with the chimera, fly with the seraphim |
Might hold court with the cats and dogs |
Who hold Kools like an orb in a dragon’s claw |
In terry cloth robes outside detox surly |
Curse at a beat cop, doctor a Slurpee |
Adopt no Xerxes, fear no moon man |
Stay true like a wolf wearing wolf pants |
Oooh, never could avoid himself |
For long enough to contain or employ as help |
And now he look both ways at the asteroid belt |
Buzzed, gross and wholly unloved |
Still hear an ex in his head yelling, «kiss the ring» |
From a fortune to Fisher King |
Or from assisted care, blisters in his hair |
New day, new diary of disrepair |
Soups on, 2-ton crucifix to bear |
No shoes, no shirt, no fiscal year |
I said hello to Marshall every morn for 6 |
He yelled at me every time, that’s amore, bitch |
It only took one tooth to crack the bug juice and chug |
Turn a bum to a Sun Tzu, it’s bug |
Outside home is an open swim |
Occultism in the throws of corrosive wind |
A cold meal with the ghosts of friends |
A whole host of meds |
A deal on a Tone Loc cassette |
I stepped over a body in the door |
I pretend he asleep but it’s probably more, God damn |
Profound apathy, heart with a crack |
I’m ships in the night |
I’m darts at a map |
Word up |