Texty: Aesop Rock. None Shall Pass. Bring Back Pluto.

In the beginning it was large marge sent me, i?m bent, empty the rent if you can
double park the garbage barge gently, the moon took a second mortgage on the
7th house, and jupiter ain?t talk to mars, he felt to host the rover sold him out, close
your mouth, poke your snout over the cloaked aroma clouds, solar boy elope with
couch ogling older polaroids, motor mouth chauffeur the golden molar toy, gophers
yolk a fish out of water, he grows lungs and multiplies. idle, when soldering
a perfect union, it is vital to calculate any ornery loose ends, so if mutiny ensues
the aloof is assumed nuisance,the clue is in his vacany, the proof is in his goosebumps,
maroon the traitors expecting acres of edelweiss, who later learn it may actually
be safer to play with knives, i show up late lookin? all project grizzly, 2 bowies,
a 3rd for throwing, and accomplish dickweed, nothing, nada, nill, i stuff a lot of pill
to gut, what?s the proper rules on stuffing hostages in trucks? i?ll be numb enough
to chill before the choppers spill the blood, but if i?m not... fuck it, plug him, warpy
got his god damned groove back, jet-setting on spec with a dead yetti on the roof
rack, and miscreants will rubberneck jalopy euthanasia which will later be regretted
when it?s your turn for cremation, and i walk like early man, freak a little witch hunt,
gathering the carnies and exploitng every stigma, the malformed oddities among
sovereignty?s normal, shall abuse every vice you can imagine right before you.
all i thought of was the cloven-hooved, and how they clip-clip-clop over the woven
roofs, with a nose for commotion and stolen goods, now tell me what the fuck am i
supposed to do? in the mean time 9 minus 1 left 8, in the mean time 9 minus 1 left
8, in the mean time 9 minus 1 left 8, we were busy putting barbs on a large iron gate.
stare into the glowing eye of cerberus and grow, authoritative laminates will not
repel the quarantined alone, all the town sickly know the coke machine as home,
where they sit and hope the ovaltine that nobles drink is strong. couples only roller
rink with soul to kiss your chicken to, before they wiggle mittens through the pillory
to ridicule, and you can hear the iron maidens lock, or see the town crier?s ankle
stock chained up to the tanker truck, A is up early, ring and run, thank you much,
document a little of that underbelly bang for buck, hey, i walk as the hype of the city
gossip, meaning every dumpster diver?s gotta vomit up a comment like, ?you ain?t
shit, this ain?t ill?, this is little russian dolls that get smaller and smaller still, this a
corpse full of pills tryin? to sit still and build, cuz 8 planets bullied number 9 until he
fell. babylon goggles, gawk for the galvatron coppers, tugboat salvage all fossils, i?ll
be shepherd when the whirlybirds deny the lepers doctors, if i?m not.... fuck it, the
terrible metal hacking seeds up?s as american as ski up off a plastic d-cup. you?d
think charlie brown was weathermen how i zig-zag around these yellow backs for
peanuts, in the baggy stomach lining attached to the bums in hiding sits the morals
every outing would slide to refine his grinding, when the freakishly disfigured have
been triggered to surround you , you will live inside the actual second they let the
hounds loose.