| What’s up B? |
| Wa-sa-bi
|
| I’m searchin' the city for sci-fi wasabi
|
| The start button has been pushed already
|
| Obi-Wan Kenobi is waiting for me in Union Square
|
| My wheel needs repair. |
| The bike lane’s glowing all over the city
|
| My bike «specializes» in the nitty-gritty
|
| New York City never had equality, it’s reality, economic duality
|
| Where are my amenities
|
| Tell me my sanity
|
| Ain’t no analogy for individuality, I got immunity from multiplicity
|
| That’s how we do it. |
| You got your harmony
|
| Where’s your identity?
|
| Our name is stereotype with an A
|
| I got to get the shit straight
|
| Your vision of stupidity’s made of vanity
|
| Keep your quality up in the sky
|
| There is a hole on Broadway, no control, it’s in my way
|
| I feel no goal. |
| Where is my soul?
|
| I got no reset for this game
|
| A.O.K. |
| gotta find an alley anyway
|
| My hair turns grey day by day
|
| Don’t erase your points, you’ve got your pace
|
| Don’t waste your days, get your innerspace
|
| Don’t give me chase, I’m at St. Marks Place
|
| Feeling Stromboli, not ravioli
|
| I’m charging my energy fresh as a daisy
|
| Biologically let your system know what’s up
|
| Here comes your twin hopper
|
| Yuka Honda knows her water — «Pass the Volvic»
|
| No wonder her fingers are smooth like butter
|
| It’s specific. |
| No mind traffic
|
| CIBO MATTO 1999!
|
| I’m Miho Hatori straight outta purgatori
|
| Ai? |
| Ai? |
| Alright? |
| I’m passing on your right
|
| Don’t be snobby with me
|
| Not aioli, surely not Moby
|
| Obi-Wan Kenobi told me in the lobby
|
| Technically I’m free and I can find the key
|
| Our name is stereotype with an A
|
| I’ve got to get the shit straight. |
| Can you relate, my mate?
|
| Don’t be late, my gate is open
|
| Downtown still sends me up in the sky |