Lyrics Typecast - Hemlock Ernst, P.O.S., Busdriver

Typecast

My jacket look wet
My paint job wet
My hurricane can take your breath
My hurricane can take your breath
My paint job wet
My jacket look wet
My hurricane can take your breath
My hurricane can take your breath
You better watch your step
Yeah, Trukfit, truck nuts, I’m a Honda
No fucks, marijuan where I want to
We’re '97, J-Lo, Anaconda
Young bucks leaving crust where they wander
Paint job wet, stay off the Maaco
Stay out my window, stay in my rear view
Stay in the clear, dude, whenever you hear crews
Stay out they mixtapes, get out the heat, shoot
Shoot guns, shoot cum, shoot flicks
Kick dicks, dumb, move bricks
Cement, glue, building shit
No shit, dude, I mean quick (yeah)
Be a beast, be a monster
Watch for the cops, knock off the robber
What?
Rob, steal, get the copper
Yep, see the teeth, be the chomper
And masticate, mash the hate to paste
They sedate, we thrash and smash the state
Cheshire with elastic face
No sire, no dice, I’ma crash the courtyard
And Templar, appearance exemplar
Tempt faith for summer and winter
And spring off the front hand, land in a stall
With a peace sign backwards like «fuck all y’all
I’m from Texas,» he ain’t y’all
His telephone number is on the wall
His paint job wet
His jacket look wet
His hurricane can take your breath
My hurricane can take your breath
You better watch your step
Calabases with alabaster
We avid fasters we dragon catchers
Son sign lung twine dumb violent bastards
We silence masters, we bind and capture
With the curses
Flirt with the verse fore spitting in the frame
Pigeon simile the same as my broken English brain
Like a rum and Coca train
Drunk driving in the rain and the silence is the same
Petal on the rose, tulips on my growth, kettle for a nose
Pour me in the flow, Edgar Allan Jones
Hang with Quincy for the show, just for the promo
Shoot me in slow-mo, gold pen, no-doz
Old friends don’t show, new friends don’t know
Old trends, old bros, new trends, new clothes
Pencils know though
All I hang is with kinfolk, though
Look, you cannot cook
I just want to say that you got some books
You got the look and you can read
You can get a job if you got some leads
You can get a job and move to Prague
You can move to Bratislava
You can study and become a doctor
I just want to say that you hot as lava
But you cannot cook no pasta
But you smoke weed like a Rasta
Are you tired?
I think I’m wired
I think my teeth are clenched like pliers
Think I need to hang up fliers
I think I am your new supplier
Let’s get higher like a pelican
Just want to say that I am a gentleman
Take my arm and move to Maryland
We can raise a little terrapin
We can be happy after all
I got your number from the bathroom wall
My jacket look wet
My paint job wet
My hurricane can take your breath
My hurricane can take your breath
My paint job wet
My jacket look wet
My hurricane can take your breath
My hurricane can take your breath
You better watch your step
Pluck from the head
A succulent thread off the cup of the fez
You’ve adopted a child soldier
He’s not tucked in the bed
The adamant stretches
I look all sexy on the Vatican steps
My jacket look wet, yeah, my jacket look wet
I’m speaking in accents and bottling the lightning bolts
Caramelized pancreas, ass through white jeans
You served the warlord who seeps in the wasteland
Manipulate talking points, end up all spray tanned
Can’t quell all the longings so sell your belongings
Feed the uneven maw
I’m munching you cheese balls in a ceramic jaw
I got keys to my stolen car
I’m screaming like a heave in a piste that Jesus is law
Am I the oldest man of marble?
The polls do it for the multitude of ex-janitors and golden booze
All the pizza men incarcerated
Is there no Josephine Baker doppelganger in my near future?
In my near future?
Am I near a computer?
Oh!