Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song TUFF, 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
TUFF |
Dum-diggy, bump Biggie |
Til the landlady holler, «Get a haircut, hippie» |
The death knell generator entertain a fresh kill |
Breath quelled dressed like a bloated sack of dead cells |
Shedding, purple tape, purple 'hawk, ape |
A single flower through the permafrost |
Pick himself and learn to walk, in furry pants |
War paint, circling a duralog |
Boar face, devil by his side like a service dog |
Schlock purist, watch the block burneth |
One o’clock prophets in the parking lot at Perkins |
The perfect politicians 30 clicks outside of Sturgis |
Doggie bag doctors, military deserters |
Who still shop surplus and can’t hold jobs |
I look like I’m wearing a ghillie suit when I’m not |
Roll out ghost of Camu on the pegs |
Might pedal by the police |
Tuff with two F’s |
Ah fuck that shit look |
Can’t tell if I’m a little withdrawn |
Or dead dog sent to quote/unquote «live on a farm» |
The coke bottles tint film noir |
Tripping out the milk bar |
Poison horchata cup |
Milf in the Zip Car |
6 arms, 6 hand-styles like ships on scrimshaw |
Part Def Jam part Dischord |
My wig-picker threw me out of her office |
Had to cold turkey 'benzos, summer was awesome |
Onion of 'bensis |
Summer was awesome |
Got brats on the grill |
Wormwood in the cauldron |
Horse hoof in the dog’s mouth |
Cholera in the well |
Make money periodically vomiting on himself |
I read Nat Geo, craft and crack geodes |
Lift party hats out of Craft Depot |
Unleaded liar blood pumped through his neck |
Came down from the mountain |
Tuff with 2 F’s |
TUFF |
TUFF |
(What's so funny? |
You, what are you laughing at? |
I said what are you laughing at?) |
Before a player ever met his omega |
They were effectively reducing his behavior into data |
With plans to build a dais where the |
People grow potatoes and cabbage |
Don’t make him raise the gate between the bettas |
In a spectacle displaying the nature of strange neighbors |
I paint caves 'til the rage campaign tapers |
And show a new crop how he used to moonwalk |
Out of breath like a 7-day old balloon dog |
I still hang band posters and buy black-lights |
Crib decorated like a dorm room at Brandeis |
Still pretend I’m gonna build another half-pipe |
Nevermind the Ford-era christening and pants size |
Man, who could’ve guessed the future of abominable imagery |
Would also share a birthday with Kenny G? |
None |
The 99 cent 2 cents keeps 2 arms folded |
Tuff with 2 F’s |
Yeah, let’s do it like that |
Unh I pay a guy to lean over steepled fingers |
And convince me to pay him for his teas and tinctures |
The string cheese dinner kid speak Cheech wizard |
For the gone like Gossamer under number 3 clippers |
Free, forged in various pulp channels |
Even his prize horse rides a wolf into battle |
Even his blood and body couldn’t pick him out a line up |
Or his name off the paper |
It’s Aes pronounced «Why Us?!» |
First learned the high art of eyeing a mark |
Buying nickels for a dime at the park |
I learn to rhyme in New York |
I learned to breathe underwater |
I learned to walk with a ghost |
Adidas reeking of sulfur |
A chauffeur cemetery funk |
When home is a bleeding ulcer |
Everything you ever stood up for is keeling over |
Moonset beautifying |
Cartoon death catfish on the Foreman |
Tuff with 2 F’s |
Yeah |