Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dear Sirs, artist - El-P. Album song I'll Sleep When You're Dead, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.12.2019
Record label: Fat Possum, Producto Mart
Song language: English
Dear Sirs |
Dear Sirs |
If the pavement comes alive on Flatbush Ave with toothy smiles |
Comprised of traffic cones and manholes become eyes |
And birds burst into flames while singing Satan’s praises |
And fold into the sky and rain down ashy danger |
If every office empties and all slaves walk in dazes |
To a pool of liquid money where they bathe blissfully naked |
And drugs no longer taunt me and flooze around my conscience |
And every woman beating rapist is securely in their coffins |
If every open hydrant in a Brooklyn time summer moment |
Is opened up by cops and folds out into an ocean |
And rent is paid by bread literally and parking isn’t paid for |
And food stamps can be planted and childhoods can’t be damaged |
If fire could power space ships that safely ship the creators |
Of dynamite and gun powder to the graves of all who faced it |
And the slurping nerf of bureaucrat life and bean counting slave owners |
Is twisted in on itself til they shave off their own faces |
If all the coke and crack in the nation is collected in a top hat |
And force fed to the children of every CIA agent |
And dust heads get an angel and an acres worth of rainbow |
And the projects turn to clouds and the stupid aren’t so proud |
And the snivelling grimace mongrels of infected money slobbing |
Pesticrats ignite into a brilliant beam of light |
And mercy is the rule, and the exception’s mercy too |
And the desert comes in Brooklyn and the President goes to school |
Time flows in reverse, death becomes my birth |
Me fighting in your war is still, by a large margin |
The least likely thing that will ever fucking happen, ever |