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SONG CREDITS:
Written & Performed by Aesop Rock
Produced by Blockhead
LYRICS:
Pulled pork sliders, headed for satori in jorts and horse blinders, I’m more for the sordid, got nan for the normies, cornered, my storm got plans for the Dorothies, I storm off, forged from my gramp’s war stories, short sword swinging like a dance floor in the forties, my oars both row in a ocean of fringe science, the low road’s owner of the most pinched lighters, I maybe got a thousand, my crane kick plays like a train through a mountain, my neck chop plays like blades on a frisbee, all “Tally-ho”, had the hole place in a tizzy, is you widdit, fake name, wake made of windswept village, visit where the simps get skittish, some get a signal to the ships in the distance, most get crickets, it’s slim pickin’s
Folk say I’m difficult, I’m too stubborn, It’s funny, I’m real easy, Y’all buggin’
I like film cameras, and slim chances, and I always put the chips in the sandwich, Yea bitch, picture a hiccup in the curriculum, clearing off his coat tails, tones yelling “finish him”, stone-faced, always with the same 2 side kicks, 1, no, both are comedically oversized fists, pack a wallop, I wallop a whole pack of punks, pretty much a grizzly plucking sushi out the salmon run, troubleman-ish, I’m a apple with no tree, I’m ground swell crashing every castle at Jones Beach, it’s beautiful as Jolene hair in the sun, or any adversary wrapped up in a area rug, oh jesus, Aes loves all animals and plant life, songbirds eat from his hand, you god damn right, odd man out, bad hand fanned out, trying to man up, man down
Folk say I’m difficult, I’m too rigid, it’s funny I’m real easy, y’all tripping,
Every time an influencer offers advice, I feel years coming off of my life, I feel, blood shooting out of my ears, still I’m apparently a sucker for these houses of mirrors, Ok, homeboy, I could turn a dollar into two, with no job, all I do is hit a pot with a spoon, to anybody clocking to copy his every move, catch a birdie from the window of a rocket to the moon, got a double wide enclosure at the back of the zoo, got a cat named Kirby she could rap good too, gadzooks, it’d behoove you to slow that roll, around here we turn jokers into smoking holes, I’m a fever dream, I seen trouble nobody knows, still show his home county how a nova explodes, that’s a whole lot of “woah” on the stove, that’s a whole lotta holes in your prose, gross
folk say I’m difficult, I’m too defiant, It’s funny I’m real easy, Y’all wilin’.
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