Lyrics The over Under - Rob Sonic

The over Under

It goes aim low
Straight-jacket black florescent raincoat
Tarzan beat the cheetah Jane Doe
John Q public eye workers in his blood let him sing for his breath
Live on the air is the patch for beans
With cat scratch fever and the gas receipts
I got this half-cracked femur from the factory
And I’m still waiting here for someone to get back to me
Now ain’t we the ones behind the times
Square away the mouse replace the pilot lines
And the triple X peep show live inside
With the weight of the inflation and the 5 and dime
Get the change, pump the breaks, and away we go
With the 3-D persona and the fake TiVo
Got a deep sleep for John I’ll be the radio
Cuz what the fuck kind of fool do they take me fo'?
Is the getting good?
(yep)
Going for the gold?
(uh-huh)
Well here’s your ID number and a half pit of food
Think you know the time?
(yep)
Think you’re showing through (uh-huh)
Then welcome to the high life, don’t make a move
No, you can’t do the dirt and then use a bath towel
No milk and honey if you kill your cash cow
Can’t make the moves if you throw your back out
Can’t get your rocks off in the glass house
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
Come on I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
It’s like aim low
They told me doggy that his chain broke
Now he got that funky little taste so
This should be his day in the sun
But no one cut a hole in the fence
Pack the balloons with Clorox and bleach
And the Reddi-wip canisters of chocolate cream
Kids no longer use their hands like a soccer team
It’s all fat lady, A sharp, opera scream
Ill how we still keep the country sick
How the future became nothing but a drug we kick
On some black-light gun cock thug remix
And I know I cannot win so just cut me, Mick
Break time are walking in the home of the freeway
It’s told where to go, but there’s nowhere to be
Dukes up, guard down, go finish tea
Where the popular vote will get thrown in the sea
Pay through the nose, if it works then it’s real
At the cyanide high five, nurse it and heal
Toe tag, body rock, urban appeal
Where you put your hands up and lose your shirts in the deal
Feeling like a king?
(yeah)
Like a million bucks?
(uh-huh)
Well don’t you go nowhere until we taxed you enough
In it for the win?
(uh-huh)
Got something to say?
(yep)
Well sing your little song, just make sure that it’s safe
No, you can’t do the dirt and then use a bath towel
No milk and honey if you kill your cash cow
Can’t make the moves if you through your back out
Can’t get your rocks off in the glass house
You can’t win the game if you don’t know the score
Can’t fix this shit, it’s been broke since before
Can’t can the worms if you open it more
And you can’t hide the troops and then still lead the war
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way
Come on I want to do the bump, but there’s bombs in the way