Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pigeon, artist - Cannibal Ox.
Date of issue: 08.12.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Pigeon |
Congested on a majestic street corner |
That’s a short time goal for most of 'em |
Cuz most of 'em |
Would rather expand their wings and hover over greater things |
That’s what we call inspired flight |
By the pigeons that gotta eat pizza crust every night |
And Let there be light was understood |
When a mic-stand descended from up-and-above into the hood |
And if my face is worth a thousand words when it’s scarred |
I would only hope that two of those are coco and butta |
To heal the wounds of the tissue scarred to mark the death of my womb |
But I’ve graduated, got my wings |
And you’ve got to let go of my constructed Lego egg-o-waffle halo |
Eh yo, I’m a black man with an African |
Drum in my chest that beats on the opposite of the right |
Let me know I got a breath left |
In this frigid fragile capsule |
That allows you to fly south before the winter winds trap you |
I wrap my hell I made it wetsuit stitch |
So I can swim in elevators crazy wet through piss |
I’m just a pigeon with one mile left |
That doggy-paddles through this bullshit ocean of death |
And these rags-to-riches words will break bones |
Like the assassination of two birds with one stone |
That’s why I don’t associate with bird brains with their beaks in the air |
Pelicans with wide jaws yap names for fish heads |
You’ll get tossed in the flames |
Where some ornithologist will find your skeletal frame |
Eskimo metal got shit locked in oxygen shell |
Words shot plated metal lung which spun kids’carrousel |
Mega alarm technoloid these boys fight four arms swinging two toes very well |
Terror toys jubilated mega noise when iron works |
Bullet shot animated mad windows with fireworks |
Shinin’summer-time hydrants |
Splash passing cars, now run ghetto tyrants |
These faces carry scars (mega large) |
Pigeons turn penguins talk fables cellular |
Detached Christ’s Word |
But freeze-frame gold chain swing Son of God |
Iceberg gem shines on the neck of ghetto flight bird |
Getting fly like word |
Let it settle |
I remember cats snatched off the pedal (steal and bite days) |
Doo-rags worn tight (Piranha bite ways) |
Smoke cheeba through the lung Arabian camel |
Fast like a cheeta now I’m knocked off my African sandal |
God damn you! |
Ethiopian skin mechanical |
Trapped in ghetto’s meg-yard where mega-hard |
Arms swing metal palms iron skin leopard |
Holding evil metal eagle attacks the desert |
Paranoid fingertips stitched with three-fifty and seven metal shit |
Tucked behind the belt ghetto style like delicate street etiquette |
Never lacked toast metal cow got milk in the gut settlin' |
Cats gotta eat swallow beef horribly melanin mahogany |
Black boys feed face with rap noid (?) |
Eight arms working short circuit manufactured crack melted |
Slinging shot guns through the mouth of cracked helmets, black felt it Cats who pop flows shot heavy through the nostril |
Brain sizzle grab the pistol and get hostile |
He caught you alone fuse blown |
Unemployed screaming That’s why I robbed you! |
Tired of the Medicaid, deaded by the car (?) Novocain filled with lemonade |
You better get a job! |
mother talked, just another hawk |
He nearly ate a bodega food stamp transaction |
Left me in corners buckled me accompanied by evil hands clappin' |
Rockin’my hell I made it wetsuit stitch |
So I can swim in elevators crazy wet through piss |
I rock my simulated air tank bit |
So I can leave pressures of oxygen where my mic’s lit |
I’m just a pigeon |