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I left home armed with an ultra-sonic boom harpoon |
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And an energy-pack that would last me for about one moon |
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I moved anonymously in amongst the insect people |
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Who appeared to be allergic to direct eye-contact |
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I can?t tap into this plane ? experiencing some kind of interference |
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Switching to automatic, requesting clearance |
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There, did you feel that slight change in pressure |
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This verbal architecture is currently housing you like Escher |
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Arousing you with pleasure, beyond measure |
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My treasure is infinite and exquisitely intimate |
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When the hundredth monkey catches wind of it, it?s all over |
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They going down |
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I?m on some fresh stretchy-wetchy |
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Take good care of your gift type shit, designed to flip your lids |
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Yes kids, when you get a little older then |
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You?ll learn how to let these rhymes write themselves, while you hold the pen |
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Stop ? shut-down ? recharge |
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I get freaky deaky with the microphone |
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There so many nice old phrases that put pretty smiles on faces |
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I been doing this for ages filling pages and pages |
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My styles are like running around in shoes without laces, you know they come off |
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This erases any trace of impatience I?m feeling like some ancient healing |
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Yo, you dealing with an alien being |
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Communicating through a human body, fuck the illuminati |
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I?m censored ? a motherfucking one-man army |
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You can?t harm me, I?m not actually here in the first place |
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My word play makes today feel like your birthday |
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I got so much presence cos I stock pile my essence |
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Rock-wild with peasants, lace lessons with blessings |
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Amplifying our united fluorescent effervescence |
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With the most ital-vital recitals you ever heard in your whole life |
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Tonight?s the night, the light?s so bright |
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Quick, turn me off before I start feeling too nice |
