Ahistorical - you think this shit just dropped
Right out of the sky
My analysis: it's time to harvest the
Crust from your eyes
To surge and refine, to rage and define
Ourselves
Against your line so sorry friend but
You must resign
You want to figure it out
We'll throw down, we'll throw down
You want to figure it out
We'll throw down your bulldog front
Bold bold mouthtalking not so bold
Now that you've eaten your own
Lips flecked, mouth specked you strip the
Skin right off of the bone
And I would never say you act without
Precision or care, but it's all attention
To armor, to the armor you wear so well
Let's knock and check to see
If there's somebody home