Lyrics
Ride on Blue Boy dipped in a Uni
Dickin on a squad car, vickin on a fully
Sick as a Sunni, strapped with a bobby
Pullin on the pin, he Tutankhamun
Boots to the ceiling, boostin the serum
So sincere, brutes new to the feeling
Ridin on the old scene, buck if you hear me
Bucks for the fabric of your fiber
Bricked, dips, blicks, big, brighter
Bees in a trap? No, bees in a hive
Gee is for Geezus, Gs and a nine
Oh is for O.G.s, grease in the eyes
Crease in the khakis, piece to the side
Forgotten youth when older mutants played Magneto
We believed the strip and never plagiarized their credo
Fashion cutter for the fascist, dirty-lipped and truly goony
Looney Tune Schooly Ds come off cartoony
No King Cloak and Dagger, Lavabanger Legacy
No anonymity, no forced validity
False Hopes, we got close, man, we got ghost
Tough shows and rough roads until every sign said, GO!
Take the skins
Hang em on the walls
Not trophies, just reminders
What is left here when we fall
Ay, I’m pushing up on your tempo
She too stoned Nintendo
I’m Vint Cerf, she Pink Floyd
I’m jumpin out the window
Sike, I’m fly, I float aight right by
Cut my own moat
Get by with my chose fam
Dismantle thrones
All the fuck in your station
All up in your dark
Awkward in ya Marc Maron conversations
Call em out the park
Hangin out then Van Halen cabs in your city
All up on your block opposite the cops
Y’all should all fuck with me
Style like a Cadillac
Crash with a battle axe handy
Gucci store fire on the couture
Then planes, trains, and automobiles, I’m John Candy
Y’all just can’t stand me
I make em feel ridiculous
Pickin apart they postures put together meticulously awful
In the air, hostile
The fingernails, watch em
Sit and stare, box em if I gotta
Panic is the fashion
I arrow to the action
Pied Piper through all types a shit
Types like me y’all ain’t fuckin with
Go get it
Or go without
You going nowhere
Run that shit into the ground
Go get it
Or go without
We go for broke
And run that shit into the ground
Struck by lightning
With a hand in the sand
Came to with a fist fused in glass
Closed the circuit skull full of white light, mouthful of ash
Sparks on the pavement
Dragging the chain
Anchor’s off, man, lost it again
Steady on gotta push through the rain
Weather in the veins, came for this
Train for this, fuck
Made for this, pray they miss, duck
Duck gray duck gets up and running
Rest fall back like a bridge in London
Brand new brakes I never touch em
You’re all spin move, you’re doing too much
Rental car, trick cigar
I’m just laughing while that whole thing blows up
Looking like I’m Joakim Noah
Black mask, take your gas money
My name is Sims but call me David Lynch, I make em act funny
I ain’t afraid to change lines, state, date, or face
I’m option two when you skate or die but still survive on basslines
At least for the next eight months
Then I change up like it ain’t much
You do the Roger Rabbit in Shape Ups
Still blabbing bout some frame up vision
MN living gray duck risen
Nay fucks given, way subliminal
Class-war criminal trying to make my stance more pivotal
See what is left is suspect
The Pepsi Gen went crystal meth
And punk rock dads scream rap is dead
I laughed until I lost my chill
I’m really real, half Built to Spill half Kill at Will
Half shark alligator and my Philly filled
Mill City kid in the field
Gritty is in the blood, proof is in the track
Fifty in the tank, on you like a Mac Truck
Roll with a ton on my back
Better back up fast
Go get it
Or go without
You going nowhere
Run that shit into the ground
Go get it
Or go without
We go for broke
And run that shit into the ground