[00:00.000] 作曲 : Rory Ferreira
[00:01.000] 作词 : Rory Ferreira
[00:12.57]I write a rap how Piccolo grow his arm back
[00:15.55]Y'all pigeonholed in combat
[00:16.95]Perfidy a calm bombast
[00:18.35]Mortal Cumbia podcast
[00:19.94]On my chin, red velvet cake crumbs make contact
[00:22.93]Crack pot mascot in the temple of stolen inches
[00:26.16]Minding my own black business
[00:27.79]The solitude in riches, no credit, no category
[00:30.62]No sabbatical allegory
[00:32.16]Radicals request their alimony
[00:34.30]No escape, no clone war
[00:35.76]Death don't care who own more
[00:37.57]The left hand of Nostrum Grocers
[00:39.51]Doctor ignotum per ignotius
[00:40.91]The sweeter the berry, the blacker my Folgers
[00:43.23]The darker my grey clouds and yet how
[00:45.40]It seems to thicken my PayPal so steadily
[00:47.84]And rap music is so amenable to meddling
[00:50.25]Regardless, I stay ventilating
[00:51.69]Driving zig zags and rental vans up canyon
[00:54.51]Where you don't get no medal for what your standards demand
[00:56.93]Reckless abandon is recommended to claim an upper hand sign
[01:00.00]The Ruby Yacht weatherman
[01:01.66]**** a taper, let my hair grow, ergo
[01:05.16]**** a comb, let my hair loc
[01:07.68]Iridescent mare lurk the Airdrop
[01:09.98]To toot his own horn, self-born, getting closer to form
[01:13.24]Bellowing animist, fellow's magnanimous
[01:16.05]Muttering damned amateurs
[01:17.56]Tripping on the mic cable, bomb, cough, costs bombs
[01:21.07]Fondant for the savant of off-day songs
[01:23.93]No fables, alms
[01:27.41]No fables, alms
[01:33.30]I stare down an oncoming rapper in an Escalade
[01:36.68]Like I'm Theaster Gates
[01:38.06]Getting paid for a performance art piece
[01:40.05]Unfurl the dormant barking, do not become a beast
[01:42.78]Mutual exclusivity is ******* with me
[01:45.27]I like the orange box of Zig Zags
[01:47.66]Handled your album like a useless knick knack
[01:49.88]Drove off the Prius rental bumping The Get Back
[01:52.04]Had a hell of a time and now I'm airborne
[01:54.48]Boingo hotspot, copping some Tretorns
[01:57.51]My natural-born state is to scorn haste
[01:59.60]It's just something about how the orange box taste
[02:02.35]Gorgeous like heartache
[02:03.52]Never made it past the rough draft
[02:05.11]As asphalt glints, I hum a ballad to it's innocence
[02:08.55]Like what's mystical is skin pressed to skull
[02:10.60]Desertions wink, mince the door
[02:12.20]Reading "push" or "pull"