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mash-a-ton - superspeedraven lyrics

[introduction: tyler, the creator]
i can grab the fireworks, and soda, all the cookies we can**

[verse 1: hodgy]
i’ma give it to her, she want that summertime
i’ma give it like no other ’cause she know i’m hers
d*mn right, she mine, we both know it
so when we separate everything fine, her phone ringin’ in her purse
d*mn right, it’s me, i’m her n*gga, n*gga
come for mines in summertime, i’ma bust that trigger, n*gga (hahaha)
catch us venice beachin’, she wanna go shopping
sundown after club ’cause she like to get it popping
sangria on my freedmind, ’cause she likes to get it popping
no ecstasy for her, but she wanna get it popping
drop topping, i measure her pleasure
then drop in, when she get out of place i quantinize
she is my concubine, i am her porcupine
i poke her face her throat for taste, give me head like i’m on her mind

[verse 2: aesop rock]
ok, this is the dawning of the book of bitter aspects
where the jackals sit and watch the pedagogues clash flesh
poison function accompanied by six armor*clad
black horse and buggy mechanisms
tugged a portion of my severed vision (my severed vision)
the gathering of loose ends in a bucket
with a shoestring budget
every man’s got a field to plow (i know that now)
but it’s like, man i really can’t afford the oxen
fee fie et cetera
i smell the warm blood of the bill collector knockin’
i get awkwardly st*rdy with a frigid liquid backbone
i get swept in the pressure cooker tryin’ to paddle back home
i get sprung with a vibrant alliance of clean intention
by eclipsing doom litigants hatched to bash these picket fences
now i’ll attend the wedding of the open sore and festering
and when the groom presents the ring
the bride commence the blistering
it’s textbook magnificently crude
prototype king berserker module
inserted vertical thirst, burst horizontal (treasure)
treasure, loose cannons span the starboard bow
of the clipper ship dipped in truth famine pressure (pressure)
cabin fever meter peggin’ ludicrous
beautiful cartoon troopers
swallow brutal futility with a teaspoon full of sugar
i rock ready, aim, fire while y’all rock ready, fire, aim
then blame the stationary target while the prey escapes the frame
merit badge, marksman, or poacher?
it’s all the same (right?)
so i lay across the wood perpendicular to the grain
[hook: aesop rock]
i wanna be a big bang, gotta be
never bottle me up in a probably, i wanna see a ‘yes sir’, sir
yes sir!
th*rn with a torn core, sore to the bone
warn the other brothers i was born forlorn
big bang, shoveling a big dig
huddle in a tunnel of big dreams i think big things
i’ma burn with this little light of mind
and a prime concern to earn thanks, i’ma be a big bang
i wanna be a big bang, gotta be
never bottle me up in a probably, i wanna see a ‘yes sir’, sir
yes sir!
th*rn with a torn core, sore to the bone
warn the other brothers i was born forlorn
big bang, shoveling a big dig
huddle in a tunnel of big dreams i think big things
i’ma burn with this little light of mind
and a prime concern to earn thanks, i’ma be a big bang

[verse 3: aesop rock]
i’m just a survivor of the woolly mammoth population
bottle neck effect, sorta born def
alien to shallow alchemy
if you gon’ metamorph the base*metal to precious
might as well steal from the rich, bewitch the peasants
i’m floating this homing pigeon out h*ll’s kitchen window
left an s.o.s. infested bottle nestled in his grip so
with a prayer circle release party and hearty wild bellow
i observed him fly ten feet
then drop the bottles to the devils
[verse 4: busdriver]
in finger painting with children
i find the simplest thing in life gratifying
[?]
she looks just like a dad
in the side of my [?]
or, pictures of her memories in wallet size
with radios and baby clothes that [?]
[?] performance in a turquoise dress

[hook: busdriver]
under a cotton candy cloud
and a syndicated tongue
she knows exactly how to make daddy proud
her simulated fun
under a cotton candy cloud
and a syndicated tongue
she knows exactly how to make daddy proud
her simulated fun

[verse 5: busdriver]
by the third trimester she was at curbside check*in
trying to leave me a breath of words of my lecture
[?]
[?] going to lamaze class
arguments were broadcast in the neighborhood watcher
[?]
but i can’t be saved by the good doctor
[hook: busdriver]
under a cotton candy cloud
and a syndicated tongue
she hasn’t forgotten how to make daddy proud
her simulated fun

[verse 6: busdriver]
single parenting in custody battles
[moss sweeping?] examples of weekend visitation
from an interracial crazy marriage
and her little girl is on the receiving end of this sh*tty situation
i know it’s not that easy to listen [?] favorite song with the cd skipping
but i just wanna check it to the pediatrician

- superspeedraven lyrics

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