[Intro]
Sometime prior to inserting the pump
Into the god we have, we delayed our dad
In spaces acquired by counting rings on a stump
The god we have is goddamn mad
Raking leaves in an air compressor
There's not much room for wooden dresser
Lost my keys, black professor
Grappling hook for white aggressor

[Verse 1]
It's breakfast time, try to wear your breakfast clothes
Or make a rope kit, tied on your breakfast door
Could I mow down these 62 sidewalk crows?
Made trades with the cats on tap
Got a lung-drunk, punch-luck, tight-shut litmus test
Drum, son, I'm on the gun for you
Smoke weed called "Christmas glue"
Sittin' in a pew

[Verse 2]
The god we should've had
The worthy seething mad
But we don't, we don't love you anymore
The god we should've had
Beneath the wreath it's sad
That we don't, we don't love you anymore
[Verse 3]
So filling plastic turbine
Spinning coarse incessant beads
Read a lot of shops
Were too late to drop their lead map warranties
Make par and a battered moan
A rock, a stone, a layered loan
In place of a parlor cone
Makes a greed like cancer, heir to the throne

[Bridge]
Skin graft, machine lick
Make par and a battered moan
Skin graft, machine lick
Make par and a battered moan
I'm sick of everyone
Bitch, I'm a cartoon those bars won't do shit to me

[Outro]
My residual bank loan spit, I cope in comatose flow
Sign closet cone sanctioned bond
Man, you're broke, that's dope
A racket lawn, calloused perennial talking bar tab switcher
Monsoon parlor, taxidermist regal, soft as fuck t-shirt
Soft as fuck t-shirt