The Nang, The Front, The Bush, And Shit

(Pass me the tiger p*ss)

I tunnel rat into the hidden habits of collage dog inferno

No turning paths back(charlie attack!)

The half man have orders to burn the village

And come out with both hands intact

I'm not a mechanism born from disdain, I had to be trained

Now I catcall with dead walkers

I'll send a postcard form the Nang

If I can get onto the roof in time to hang

From the leg of this last chopper

Son of an obese burner perturbed to grow in a row

Of rotating blood colors on brick textures

And others modified climates make nasty tongue plunge

(head shots)

With opposite of chameleon blends from cartoon dreadnoughts

There was this parasite inside my wide intestinal tract

That took over my bark box before I had a chance to take my life back

And his deformed banter suprised me (where at?)

At the recruiters office, learning how to get a head in advertising

He said:

"Sure, others have passed, this is a gate to definition

But thats not the singular attraction to the setup

Not the action or the sacrifice of past draftees

Actually more of a layaway ducats plan

For the young get up and go out motivators

See the new soldiers smolder different

From that antiquated taste of stately hatred"

Well I came from melting options on the D train to the lobby

See academics played second in my life

To unmatriculated brain hobbies

And I admire the dedication to you ranks

Plus want the training

Loss is not a big problem it's all about what I'd be gaining,

"Well you'll get power, respect, an audience, a check, a car, Money for

school, honey with uniform fetish on your tool,

You'll travel, form bonds, be a part of something

have a structure, catch bullets..."

(catch bullets?)

"...I meant cash bonus

See this gold plaque, you could own it

After killing half a million

It's such a good feeling

To earn your country's respect and love

So what do you say son, are you my man?"

fuck it, sign me up

Rock rock b boy, rock rock mang

The nang, the nang, the nang, the nang

Rock rock b boy, rock rock mang

The nang, the nang, the nang, the nang

I'm not a mechanism born from disdain, I had to be trained

Now I cat call with dead walkers

I'll send a postcard form the Nang

If I can get onto the roof in time to hang

From the leg of this last chopper

Emerson Lake Palmer aka dirty larva spray harder

What a marvelous martyr maker

50 gig tone hold old dusty digital makeup

Melt with me slower this round

Technical retardation sound round one sound the hardest

Heartless

Heartless harvest, farthest, farenheit alotted

The hot shit, hopped up and shifty

Shift shit sickly, monster

ancient makeshift ministry mic on Nervous slur

bomb teleprompter, sights on

Laser head looks like a linguist

fighter lights flurry down Rounds like a ration

Allied force stranded

Stranded like a lord of the bugs and disbanded

Better bring the band aids

Hustle sh*t fantasy gun talk

Erotic logic walks out of boxes

Dead thug hug slug, metal like molten

De-evolve thug, crawl back in the ocean

Hoppy Horatio choke on broke potion

Broke and most potent to float, flank the facts

Face the f**ks with flak jackets

Jack of all trade

Embargos, faded like '88 Kane fashion

I'm back like packers

Mongoloid melody tracked backwards, broken into fragments

With terpuntine flows that broke down biblical tablets

Broken down handicapped cats leave in traction

The breath of sick death leaves a chest convexed with no F

Six steps to infected waste container misery

Fat thighs chafe in the summer from humidity, humid unhuman

Brains that bloom tulips

Caught between animal thoughts and what was taught by Confucious B-boy

lucid, ugly motherf**ker for faces of art addicts

Just for my people

Persecute plagiarist dangerous at a close range

Dose brains close to the range

To rope frames for the celebrity roast

Most celebrity aspirations get tossed in the moat

With the mackerel, actual track catapult

Corpses act animate

Walk around the back yard munching on brain cabinets

Sad but erratic

Irregular predator with bad brain magic

Magic is a Siegfried and Roy with boy special

Batter the tapestry with bruises

Born to leak from alpine box in hot cruiser (straight bruiser)

With chain mail coats and bullet proof chokers

The most you can hope is to only get half choked

That's half a joke

I'm adamant, AWOL to the last atom

Active ax handler, handle hurt merchandise

Flirt, with inert word device devised

Formed pertinent ties

Tied to word commando kids, rise

Show me those New York eyes

Isolation eats at the face of phrase biters

Bite bleak void, small world big noise

Swallowed by void, wallow with toys

Hollow metal slugs penetrated

Just demonstrated

fuck your fake face I hate it