Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Mayor and the Crook, artist - Aesop Rock. Date of issue: 07.05.2012
Song language: English
The Mayor and the Crook |
| No more pencils no more books |
| I built the city out one brick |
| I had a mayor and a crook |
| I made the crook stab the mayor then slay himself in the guilt |
| I stole the brick back and migrated east, now let’s build |
| Every tenderfoot cadet better they be slit-throat percentages |
| Chicken penmanship tied the thirteenth knot (Hangman) |
| I arrange panoramics of a plastic catalogue |
| And where wild dogs sing tailor-made lullabies tried by my offspring |
| I’ll bring the butterflies and he can bring the centipedes |
| And she’ll bring the cadavers set em' free and let em' feed |
| The devil tree penciled me in but I slept thick through my alarm sock |
| Slick Willy hid in the barn while farmer charmed the crops |
| And I’m a warden |
| My tongue is full of glass |
| Because I promised my friend I’d chew up the bottle |
| If he truly drank the poison |
| I’m alienating the mating man to the high ride, base tied |
| Face mine’s and make God clones |
| We can manufacture medicine |
| Cut into 5-digit slide clock the essentials in (I'll be a bill collector) |
| My destinies resting with red worms chewin"off the carcass anyway |
| Let me slay artists for tips in the penny tray |
| By the way if that diamond ring don’t shine |
| That’s cause I bought it at the five-and-dime but don’t neglect the sentiment |
| I’ll pedal my tricycle through the f-5 logistics of a twister |
| Soaked in the religions of a nit-picker |
| If I botched the operation I apologize (sorry) |
| The air’s rooted in carbon |
| I’m but a mortal archer parked in amber waves of starlets |
| I’m fresh out of Geppeddo’s woodwork asylum |
| Cedar frame, wire-bound knuckles |
| Let a tug of the puppeteer steer my hustle |
| Well when a page becomes a squire, re-engage, clap your wings |
| When a noble’s demoted hope it don’t sucker-punch the colony |
| But when the catapult releases lease your claims behind the bunker |
| And fasten stinger pageant results to the public eye (glory hunter) |
| Is it genuine enough to feel baby felon |
| Negotiate comradery of wills |
| Hows this my little loom |
| Perv surgeon with dirty dominion monitor boxes |
| Hovering inches 'bove pertinent urchin toxins |
| Now y’all ain’t excused from table side |
| Till the dinner plates fly |
| Slurping' liquid happy citzen enhancer |
| I got this slicky sycamore head shaker |
| Mimic stitch and splinter entry |
| Thereby filtering citizens hit-man prior to acts descending (tight) |
| Cats know the ambiance calm beyond comparison |
| Captive, passive spring loaded serenity |
| I’m trying to give this city acupuncture |
| Shovin one-way pins in subway systems |
| Stand up where I’m layin, now that a runway vic (push) |
| Made you go batty, spreading spawn legitimate |
| Spice the bishop, sever the ties, splinter the kinship |
| See every now and again I love life but hate to admit it |
| Cause it spreads the jinx on a sleeping cynic |
| I’m quadruple six plus scruples category mayhem stems |
| So one overlooked the scene including loopholes |
| When Christ studies the return ramifications |
| I’ll burn the campus to impress him |
| Then rock like medusa glances |
| You ran the final mile before the blanks blow |
| Home alone sippin beetle juice |
| Just to numb and then shimmy the needles loose |
| I built a castle out of fifty-two cards |
| Plus jokers with an image |
| Modern theory jars us while remaining harnessed to the vintage |
| I’m mad at how far this is dishonoring Occam’s Razor |
| But it seemed so being fatigued knuckle work (labor) |
| I’ve patched the little leakage in the shell around my greed |
| In case Tommy Turbulence located the matrix then impedes |