Split Seconds Songtext
von Busdriver
Split Seconds Songtext
Be real, conscious rap failed us
And in saying that, you know, welcome to my rap jam
The top-hatted Abrahams are shoveling the raisin bran
In eyeballs their bi-laws are leaping off the laser scan
Into your genotype telling you to deepthroat that pipe
If you don′t do it well
These hoes might
The red carpenter's quota fills the deficit in motor skills
Of on-lookers raw sugars register at overkill
Within your colon wall so a candied bowling ball
You squeeze out at the open call
But what if you could
Inundate the open hearing with your shrewd barbs
That perforates the sloganeering on the cue cards
Would you prize that fine cut or just apply blush
As besquelched sea-kelp nibbling on pie crust
The job offers at Albany′s count Dracula
And calorie-count spatula kitchen staff
Are on the lithograph
Of your Calvin Kline alkaline-enriched gonads
Should I kiss your ass or drown you
In the saffron soy dip
But my Zaxxon joy stick pokes at my
Glitter spackled jump suit
Mr. Applewhite grunt pukes
From the candle light-drunk seldom sung tooth
But you're the fresh faced unknown
With sophomoric gags and washboard abs
Finding cinaplex waste blood stones
Can I be OG Mud Bone?
Go free and unplug the phone
Nannies or swamis undefeated
Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it"
Or pumping antibodies in the VP's cleavage
They split it, split it...
Nannies or swamis undefeated
Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it"
Or pumping antibodies in the VP′s cleavage
They split it, split it...
Cool points trump those DIY Numerics
Be yourself but I′m too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds...
The 1-800 dollar guilt trip
Stamped on my African name book
Proves that behind the cumulus blue
There's a humilicious stew as
Dane Cook′s table reads, so I yank butch's anal beads
Out of the clenched bum of PG rated test runs
Stuffing YouTube viewership up deviated septums
Between two choose your pick:
Rule Zimbabwe or
Improved computer chips become your new Yahweh
Boo-hoo loser bitch your dopes in the blood and stole
Because most rap careers mirror stints as drug mules
But you are the pickaninny, blackfaced Ren & Stimpy
Our on-screen time is split 50-50
But I′ve only drawn guns
On construction paper with the pastel sticks
And I'm a left of center loyalist
Who′s selling bean pies with a bad sales pitch
This sex offender's foil fixed in utero
On my own dumb ass self
Yeah I pimp super ho
Whom is me
They liken Driver to Fish Bone
Have fire and brimstone misers disowned
But I'm not sure
Y′all are too NAACP or NWA on GP
But I straddle the fence every nanosec
Canceled checks line the uteral wall of my music hall
It′s like, cool points trump those DIY numerics
Be yourself, but I'm too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds...
And in saying that, you know, welcome to my rap jam
The top-hatted Abrahams are shoveling the raisin bran
In eyeballs their bi-laws are leaping off the laser scan
Into your genotype telling you to deepthroat that pipe
If you don′t do it well
These hoes might
The red carpenter's quota fills the deficit in motor skills
Of on-lookers raw sugars register at overkill
Within your colon wall so a candied bowling ball
You squeeze out at the open call
But what if you could
Inundate the open hearing with your shrewd barbs
That perforates the sloganeering on the cue cards
Would you prize that fine cut or just apply blush
As besquelched sea-kelp nibbling on pie crust
The job offers at Albany′s count Dracula
And calorie-count spatula kitchen staff
Are on the lithograph
Of your Calvin Kline alkaline-enriched gonads
Should I kiss your ass or drown you
In the saffron soy dip
But my Zaxxon joy stick pokes at my
Glitter spackled jump suit
Mr. Applewhite grunt pukes
From the candle light-drunk seldom sung tooth
But you're the fresh faced unknown
With sophomoric gags and washboard abs
Finding cinaplex waste blood stones
Can I be OG Mud Bone?
Go free and unplug the phone
Nannies or swamis undefeated
Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it"
Or pumping antibodies in the VP's cleavage
They split it, split it...
Nannies or swamis undefeated
Screaming "Pansy commies! Love it or leave it"
Or pumping antibodies in the VP′s cleavage
They split it, split it...
Cool points trump those DIY Numerics
Be yourself but I′m too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds...
The 1-800 dollar guilt trip
Stamped on my African name book
Proves that behind the cumulus blue
There's a humilicious stew as
Dane Cook′s table reads, so I yank butch's anal beads
Out of the clenched bum of PG rated test runs
Stuffing YouTube viewership up deviated septums
Between two choose your pick:
Rule Zimbabwe or
Improved computer chips become your new Yahweh
Boo-hoo loser bitch your dopes in the blood and stole
Because most rap careers mirror stints as drug mules
But you are the pickaninny, blackfaced Ren & Stimpy
Our on-screen time is split 50-50
But I′ve only drawn guns
On construction paper with the pastel sticks
And I'm a left of center loyalist
Who′s selling bean pies with a bad sales pitch
This sex offender's foil fixed in utero
On my own dumb ass self
Yeah I pimp super ho
Whom is me
They liken Driver to Fish Bone
Have fire and brimstone misers disowned
But I'm not sure
Y′all are too NAACP or NWA on GP
But I straddle the fence every nanosec
Canceled checks line the uteral wall of my music hall
It′s like, cool points trump those DIY numerics
Be yourself, but I'm too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds...
Writer(s): Regan Farquhar, Jason Chung Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
