| Song | EMG |
| Artist | El-P |
| Album | I'll Sleep When You're Dead |
| 作词 : El P | |
| (Intro) | |
| We had some fire and smoke and water and that troubled us a lot | |
| Now we're marking down our prices and they're really, really hot | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you the dream | |
| I wanna watch you come apart at the seams | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you a dream | |
| Heart of an altar boy molested in confession | |
| Who plotted for 20 years then slit the throat of a reverend | |
| And half of this thought is young vandal the system | |
| Contraption of credo drift sick shit and spit at your heaven | |
| I'm grabbin' my dick again | |
| Foot on the wall | |
| Pose down | |
| I'm drinkin' that piss again | |
| Back at the train hometown | |
| Starscream the system | |
| Ninja star the cassette deck | |
| Lazerface is back in effect! | |
| Focus like a worker ant live | |
| Get with hive mind fly shit | |
| Shut your little mind crime hybrid | |
| Eyelids pinned back flat | |
| We had a focus group of lab rats clappin' | |
| At last you got dap | |
| Automaton bells rock well from death valley | |
| Shit, we all mingle in ditch | |
| Mass grave for the kids | |
| Clash with the combat rap set | |
| A weathermen funk breath | |
| The last rebels left? | |
| Slide off or get the digipack slashed in your neck | |
| You're figitin' with 28 day simian | |
| Yeah, dog | |
| Him again | |
| The bad touch destruct militant | |
| Drum percussion lust diligent | |
| The surface that gave birth to the style is NY | |
| The jihad recipient sky is too fly | |
| The roof of the witnessing spot was BK | |
| A cloud of asbestos - I guess it's d-day | |
| Now you want me to move and do how you say | |
| Or look into my brain through this glass toupee | |
| **** this, how 'bout I just smack you bitch? (Show me where your master lives) | |
| Save that 4th reich boogie for them plastic twits | |
| Or the old women of fate stichin' the casket nits | |
| I'll be drunk on the back of the train takin' a piss | |
| Bumpin' BDP through a raheem kit | |
| With double d duracel destiny megamix like | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you the dream | |
| I wanna watch you come apart at the seams | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you a dream | |
| Get over here and buy, you hoe | |
| Excuse me, little child | |
| Why the devious smile? | |
| Well, I've become what I've forsaken and the irony's wild | |
| Are you in charge of this outfit? | |
| Nah, not me, cousin | |
| I wrestle distinction from the chompers of a buzzard | |
| Is my mommy in heaven? | |
| Well, she's definitely not here | |
| Now run away and go play with this hatchet and flaming spear | |
| I'm tryna mix up this molotov then peel the **** off | |
| I've got a windmill to tackle, son | |
| Polish my gun off | |
| My hot pink milimeter space heater | |
| Duck down | |
| Pulled out from the crevice of a triple fat duck down | |
| Horse hooves and meat I'm glued to the beat - grindin' | |
| Stolen hovercraft draggin' a bass stab behind it | |
| Every little phrase is designed for y'all to rewind it | |
| Every brittle phase has an expiration assignment | |
| Eyes wide | |
| The bad man walks alive with five dimes of sticky the bush and no 9 | |
| Who was trained by Ed Koch to hop a turnstyle | |
| See cop smile | |
| Peep cops gun | |
| Now see little juvenile me in reeboks run | |
| Through the projected transformation of the catacombs, son | |
| Makin' it home's so fun | |
| If you're alone, don't sweat | |
| 'Cause you're alone with the best | |
| The underrated phrase mason who's leakin' pain to cassette | |
| If you hate lies, don't fret | |
| 'Cause I can't lie about this | |
| At least I'm honest when I tell you my mind's full of shit | |
| And sick of skippin' on electrified hop scotch grid | |
| We're double dutchin' to percussion with this barbed wire rope choker | |
| The most floatinist spoke dope spit | |
| Get lit | |
| You're with an ambulance chaser, I strive design sick | |
| Everything must go |
| zuò cí : El P | |
| Intro | |
| We had some fire and smoke and water and that troubled us a lot | |
| Now we' re marking down our prices and they' re really, really hot | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you the dream | |
| I wanna watch you come apart at the seams | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you a dream | |
| Heart of an altar boy molested in confession | |
| Who plotted for 20 years then slit the throat of a reverend | |
| And half of this thought is young vandal the system | |
| Contraption of credo drift sick shit and spit at your heaven | |
| I' m grabbin' my dick again | |
| Foot on the wall | |
| Pose down | |
| I' m drinkin' that piss again | |
| Back at the train hometown | |
| Starscream the system | |
| Ninja star the cassette deck | |
| Lazerface is back in effect! | |
| Focus like a worker ant live | |
| Get with hive mind fly shit | |
| Shut your little mind crime hybrid | |
| Eyelids pinned back flat | |
| We had a focus group of lab rats clappin' | |
| At last you got dap | |
| Automaton bells rock well from death valley | |
| Shit, we all mingle in ditch | |
| Mass grave for the kids | |
| Clash with the combat rap set | |
| A weathermen funk breath | |
| The last rebels left? | |
| Slide off or get the digipack slashed in your neck | |
| You' re figitin' with 28 day simian | |
| Yeah, dog | |
| Him again | |
| The bad touch destruct militant | |
| Drum percussion lust diligent | |
| The surface that gave birth to the style is NY | |
| The jihad recipient sky is too fly | |
| The roof of the witnessing spot was BK | |
| A cloud of asbestos I guess it' s dday | |
| Now you want me to move and do how you say | |
| Or look into my brain through this glass toupee | |
| this, how ' bout I just smack you bitch? Show me where your master lives | |
| Save that 4th reich boogie for them plastic twits | |
| Or the old women of fate stichin' the casket nits | |
| I' ll be drunk on the back of the train takin' a piss | |
| Bumpin' BDP through a raheem kit | |
| With double d duracel destiny megamix like | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you the dream | |
| I wanna watch you come apart at the seams | |
| Everything must go | |
| You wanna get on some fly shit | |
| Get on some butterfly to the fire shit | |
| Everything must go | |
| I wanna sell you a dream | |
| Get over here and buy, you hoe | |
| Excuse me, little child | |
| Why the devious smile? | |
| Well, I' ve become what I' ve forsaken and the irony' s wild | |
| Are you in charge of this outfit? | |
| Nah, not me, cousin | |
| I wrestle distinction from the chompers of a buzzard | |
| Is my mommy in heaven? | |
| Well, she' s definitely not here | |
| Now run away and go play with this hatchet and flaming spear | |
| I' m tryna mix up this molotov then peel the off | |
| I' ve got a windmill to tackle, son | |
| Polish my gun off | |
| My hot pink milimeter space heater | |
| Duck down | |
| Pulled out from the crevice of a triple fat duck down | |
| Horse hooves and meat I' m glued to the beat grindin' | |
| Stolen hovercraft draggin' a bass stab behind it | |
| Every little phrase is designed for y' all to rewind it | |
| Every brittle phase has an expiration assignment | |
| Eyes wide | |
| The bad man walks alive with five dimes of sticky the bush and no 9 | |
| Who was trained by Ed Koch to hop a turnstyle | |
| See cop smile | |
| Peep cops gun | |
| Now see little juvenile me in reeboks run | |
| Through the projected transformation of the catacombs, son | |
| Makin' it home' s so fun | |
| If you' re alone, don' t sweat | |
| ' Cause you' re alone with the best | |
| The underrated phrase mason who' s leakin' pain to cassette | |
| If you hate lies, don' t fret | |
| ' Cause I can' t lie about this | |
| At least I' m honest when I tell you my mind' s full of shit | |
| And sick of skippin' on electrified hop scotch grid | |
| We' re double dutchin' to percussion with this barbed wire rope choker | |
| The most floatinist spoke dope spit | |
| Get lit | |
| You' re with an ambulance chaser, I strive design sick | |
| Everything must go |