Freeze

It goes welcome the pop off, some pop soft. We bang b-bang 
b-bang bang out loud. Ready on the left with a face full of
 death. We slanged out fang mouth bang out now.

This is a never dug disco, Zoo York tycoon, memorandum 
bonanza banter clamp crunk out the fish bowl. Gorgeous how 
struggling gills wriggle out water, ain't it? Same scape as
 the walls crawling with paranoia's plaintiffs.

The robo-komodo promo Zen patience a-alike to this jittery 
drooling mess. Bitterly unruly on mud hugger alert, he 
usher dirt to the kick circus. Deflected labor ethic 
questions peeled at the field workers. Is it raw? Please...
 does a priest need a ten-foot pole to baptize little Linus
 minus the lap ride and tease? Evolution is a leader 
depleter, seeker needy sheep idol feeder beware, once 
complete you might not want to be there. Dead straw to gold
 bar spin fiber. Lost and fond in a smitten kitten's 
incisors.
They Aphrodite all over the burgle of a purple heart 
compartment. Marched a burgundy carpet alarmed and far to 
parched to bark it. Lil' Abner. A real firecracker. Grows 
to throw 'bows with vehicular hijackers. To eavesdrop plots
 cops hired a wire tapper. That's a whipper snapper trapped
 beneath my grip on the fire ladder. Took drums over to 
deril' to once over the line tones.
Punch toothy ticks 'til they find homes like three ruby 
clicks. The roof is on fire where snoopy sits right now. 
You should have shot yourself in the foot when it was in 
your mouth.
CHORUS
Thieves in the strobe deep freeze your pose. For the 
disease that grows underneath your toes holds up a reason 
y'alls gold never seems to glow. Now we can all breath slow
 once the fiend's exposed. It goes heave ho. You never got 
the grit right. Bark fame but you never put the grit down. 

Hawk styles but you never got the grit right. Put the grit 
down. Grit right. Get down.
This is a never dug disco defamation of dog and pony 
grappled out chincey, chipping Leo Da Vinci phonies pushing
 kill of hill bloated. Nobody got you. While biggest 
brother's watching bigger brother watching big brother 
watch you. Nothing says circus fun quite like nuclear 
holocaust over breakfast on the terrace. Hash browns and 
peril. Old ironsides or good ship lolli-popper, Davy Jones 
still got a locker, ak, the opera's more than docs and 
soccer moms. Now before you kick your feet up, I married 
and divorced mother nature after sweet-talking that old hag
 out of a pre-nup. This information's neither braggadocio 
nor secret, just know as of now the world is technically 
not yours, peanut. It's a day in the life of the carnie 
dog-faced boy escapist. Living large, watching Springer, 
smoking beedies wrapped in bacon. At night his get busy 
disease leakage peaketh. Merk the he say/she say, BK Jesus 
turn peg legs to Adidas on the down stroke. And they like 
'what's up with the name?' I tell'em y'all made Bazooka 
Tooth I's about to ask the same. But before you curfew the 
city and shut down every block, I'd like to say I still 
Aesop the fuck out of the Rock
CHORUS
This is a never dug disco. Spread feelers. Tonka zonk 
Gepetto bred beezers. Jeepers, gee wilikers, goshes 
galoshes, Christ, god almighty. They tore his limbs off 
kilter, still the hostage moshes slightly.
Hung off the balcony by the skin off his doctor's psyche. 
He hopes it holds but knows the locusts kamikaze nightly.
He woke, corroded buggy facial, insect chopper biting. He's
 only bones by the time the ungodly body's sighted.
He saw the puddle, full color hideous monster Viking. He 
used to survey if the vermin dined on others like him. He 
found the fucks indigenous to him and awfully feisty. He 
grew old awkward grinch and settled into bonkers nicely. I 
alert vital spider works to cultivate grit, ship the bulk 
rate shit. Herbie the love bug drugs pulsate whips. Tie in 
spite for commoner idiocy and good old-fashioned biblical 
plague. We move units off your pagan escapade. And it's 
pits to the peg legged. Megas eclipse cripples so that pimp

 limp's wheel chair basketball when 15 minutes fizzles. 
Your flimsy frame marks hip-hop's second most tragic event 
and will 'til Jam Master Jay's resurrection and second 
death.

CHORUS