| Song | Pressure Cooker |
| Artist | Sage Francis |
| Album | Copper Gone |
| [Intro:] | |
| (Where have you been?) | |
| (Where have you been?) | |
| (Where have you been!?) | |
| [Hook 1:] | |
| I've been busy, get-get-get off my nuts | |
| I've been busy, busy, doing stuff | |
| Copper Gone, I had to take my time | |
| To get my life together, put everything in line | |
| Sage Francis, no need for me to tell 'em | |
| I’m from the Epic Beard Men, I'm steady representing' | |
| Strange Famous | |
| And slow and steady wins the race, ****face | |
| [Verse 1:] | |
| This is a letter to the editor sent in an envelope | |
| Sealed shut by some candle wax | |
| *****pped by an olden only show pony, with a carry sack | |
| The only thing that I overnight express is myself through song | |
| But it takes too long to reach the intended listener | |
| When it gets delivered wrong | |
| Never knew the words to the school bus sing along so I stayed off | |
| While I organized my chaos I was like "Biotch, bring it on" | |
| Pick ‘em up, your stupid self-esteem is low | |
| Put ‘em down if they’re just feeling incredible about themselves | |
| For no good god damn reason though | |
| Never saw the need to boast | |
| They were standing on the shoulders of a giant, so defiant | |
| But his feet are so, Jesus | |
| [?] | |
| Barely even know if it appears as if I hate your guts | |
| It’s just, both sides of my bed are the wrong one, and I’m always waking up | |
| Plus, I don’t care to defend sides of myself that I don’t like much | |
| I am what I am that’s all that I am, bull*****t don’t got that right touch | |
| Let the better half I punch, and push, and scratch it’s way out | |
| Get on all fours put a saddle on your back and let the pain mount | |
| I’m off to the races, gentlemen place your bets | |
| Running in circles, turning their heads, eventually you could break their necks | |
| The bookie collects, don’t play the victim when it happens | |
| Lower the stakes before you try to burn the witches at ‘em | |
| It’s the business of a Madam when the brothel has a profit loss | |
| The best of the best survive the cut and the rest get auctioned off | |
| They serve the Molotov, so Mazel Tov | |
| Forefathers of stability in this industry have ridiculously fallen off | |
| Chalk it up to blackboard, fingernail, crescendos | |
| That was my jam when I was ten, but I was deaf though | |
| I didn’t understand that I wasn’t landing a deal at all, it was a death blow | |
| Whistling Dixie through a hell hole then I went pro | |
| Active-Retro even though I paid my dues | |
| Losers hate playing a game that they can’t win so they always change the rules | |
| And I keep up, putting coffee into my tea cup | |
| Try to cut me down when I take a stand? Good luck | |
| ‘Cause I got legs like a tree trunk | |
| [Bridge:] | |
| They say anger is a gift, I’m very gifted | |
| And if ignorance is bliss then I’m a Sado-Masochist | |
| Mastered the passion for the sake of stripping it from all its pleasure | |
| Got a treasure chest collapsing under pressure | |
| [Hook 2:] | |
| Get-get-get off my nuts | |
| I've been busy, busy, doing stuff, Copper Gone | |
| I had to take a minute to get my *****t together | |
| Otherwise I was finished, Sage Francis | |
| No need for me to tell 'em, I tried to keep from yellin’ | |
| But I'm steady representin' Strange Famous | |
| And slow and steady wins the race, ****ace | |
| [Verse 2:] | |
| I been treating a vacant lot as if it’s a destination spot | |
| Picked a hell of a depression to set up my shop | |
| Master of tragic-comic timing | |
| Mellow drama you understood, a sensei to some | |
| Hyperventilating praying for the end of days to come | |
| By selling survival kits, New Testament bibles to Zionists | |
| And training wheels to professional cyclists, it’s like this | |
| Plucking petals from your frame, She-Loves-Me-Not and goes nowhere | |
| I pump my tires while you pump my brakes, I thought it was no fair | |
| Spent several sessions giving away precious possessions | |
| During an endless recession, turned repentance to oppression | |
| Pressure into a permanent first impression | |
| I’m the last of my kind so I side-step your health inspection | |
| There’s a difference between gambling addiction and making love to Lady Luck | |
| Erectile Dysfunction and being afraid to **** | |
| The pressure’s always building, I simply can’t wait to erupt | |
| Both sides of my bed are the wrong one and I’m always waking up | |
| (Always waking up, always waking up) |
| Intro: | |
| Where have you been? | |
| Where have you been? | |
| Where have you been!? | |
| Hook 1: | |
| I' ve been busy, getgetget off my nuts | |
| I' ve been busy, busy, doing stuff | |
| Copper Gone, I had to take my time | |
| To get my life together, put everything in line | |
| Sage Francis, no need for me to tell ' em | |
| I' m from the Epic Beard Men, I' m steady representing' | |
| Strange Famous | |
| And slow and steady wins the race, face | |
| Verse 1: | |
| This is a letter to the editor sent in an envelope | |
| Sealed shut by some candle wax | |
| pped by an olden only show pony, with a carry sack | |
| The only thing that I overnight express is myself through song | |
| But it takes too long to reach the intended listener | |
| When it gets delivered wrong | |
| Never knew the words to the school bus sing along so I stayed off | |
| While I organized my chaos I was like " Biotch, bring it on" | |
| Pick ' em up, your stupid selfesteem is low | |
| Put ' em down if they' re just feeling incredible about themselves | |
| For no good god damn reason though | |
| Never saw the need to boast | |
| They were standing on the shoulders of a giant, so defiant | |
| But his feet are so, Jesus | |
| ? | |
| Barely even know if it appears as if I hate your guts | |
| It' s just, both sides of my bed are the wrong one, and I' m always waking up | |
| Plus, I don' t care to defend sides of myself that I don' t like much | |
| I am what I am that' s all that I am, bull t don' t got that right touch | |
| Let the better half I punch, and push, and scratch it' s way out | |
| Get on all fours put a saddle on your back and let the pain mount | |
| I' m off to the races, gentlemen place your bets | |
| Running in circles, turning their heads, eventually you could break their necks | |
| The bookie collects, don' t play the victim when it happens | |
| Lower the stakes before you try to burn the witches at ' em | |
| It' s the business of a Madam when the brothel has a profit loss | |
| The best of the best survive the cut and the rest get auctioned off | |
| They serve the Molotov, so Mazel Tov | |
| Forefathers of stability in this industry have ridiculously fallen off | |
| Chalk it up to blackboard, fingernail, crescendos | |
| That was my jam when I was ten, but I was deaf though | |
| I didn' t understand that I wasn' t landing a deal at all, it was a death blow | |
| Whistling Dixie through a hell hole then I went pro | |
| ActiveRetro even though I paid my dues | |
| Losers hate playing a game that they can' t win so they always change the rules | |
| And I keep up, putting coffee into my tea cup | |
| Try to cut me down when I take a stand? Good luck | |
| ' Cause I got legs like a tree trunk | |
| Bridge: | |
| They say anger is a gift, I' m very gifted | |
| And if ignorance is bliss then I' m a SadoMasochist | |
| Mastered the passion for the sake of stripping it from all its pleasure | |
| Got a treasure chest collapsing under pressure | |
| Hook 2: | |
| Getgetget off my nuts | |
| I' ve been busy, busy, doing stuff, Copper Gone | |
| I had to take a minute to get my t together | |
| Otherwise I was finished, Sage Francis | |
| No need for me to tell ' em, I tried to keep from yellin' | |
| But I' m steady representin' Strange Famous | |
| And slow and steady wins the race, ace | |
| Verse 2: | |
| I been treating a vacant lot as if it' s a destination spot | |
| Picked a hell of a depression to set up my shop | |
| Master of tragiccomic timing | |
| Mellow drama you understood, a sensei to some | |
| Hyperventilating praying for the end of days to come | |
| By selling survival kits, New Testament bibles to Zionists | |
| And training wheels to professional cyclists, it' s like this | |
| Plucking petals from your frame, SheLovesMeNot and goes nowhere | |
| I pump my tires while you pump my brakes, I thought it was no fair | |
| Spent several sessions giving away precious possessions | |
| During an endless recession, turned repentance to oppression | |
| Pressure into a permanent first impression | |
| I' m the last of my kind so I sidestep your health inspection | |
| There' s a difference between gambling addiction and making love to Lady Luck | |
| Erectile Dysfunction and being afraid to | |
| The pressure' s always building, I simply can' t wait to erupt | |
| Both sides of my bed are the wrong one and I' m always waking up | |
| Always waking up, always waking up |