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the palmer squares - bareback bath house lyrics
[verse 1: ac-mental]
i’m an ign0ble crook
playin’ wall ball at the overlook
i fall down and stagger up the hall with a broken foot
nearly wrote a book in the midst of all the madness
i’mma split ya with the axe, it’d be fit to call me callous
cuz i don’t give a hoot, don’t give a darn, nope
ac fly the pigeon coop blown’ cigar smoke
tellin’ jokes to the bar folk, jar full of narco’s
sparknotes, sharpening our quotes
so i might harm you with jargon
from hartford to charlotte
i’m turning white carpet to garnet
ac go hard as a bargain, so beat it
a smarmy elitist, i’m a star, i’m a g*nius
my verse is evil, ask tucker and dale
gone with the first breeze i catch under the sail
we expatiate at a crazy rate, radiate rabies
better cash in all your rainy day savings, cuz
i’m a storm of colossal proportions
a positive force try’na cop some endors-m-nts, yo
i’m sick of slop in a short dish, so
i ain’t finna stop til i’m buyin’ lobster and swordfish
ac-mental creep from the sh0r- to the smoosh room
poor fellow’s sweeping the floor with a pushbroom
we be them grouching’ louses with the boundless prowess
throw it down then i bounce up out this
[verse 2: terminal knowledge]
yo your movement is not moving
a hop skip and a jump through the hoops and
i guess i gotta wear a costume to do it
sick of the robbery
sick of you wannabe intellectuals
property theft bothers me, but i guess we’re due
i ain’t gonna shout, y’all just gotta let me speak
i don’t want a lot, just enough to wet my beak
i’m not lyin’, you cowardly
stop by in an hour
and we’ll cook it pot fried with the lawrys
bring the cavalcade through your home
breakin’ your bones
strong arm stretch gravitational pull
stop the tear flow
stop the coulda, shoulda, woulda
choppin’ booger sugar ’til the mirror broke and
i ain’t gonna raise my voice to make a point
kickin’ a dead horse
a lazy boy riddled with bed sores
stickin’ maxi pads in his nasty -ss armpits
actin’ standoffish to you patrick–ss starfish
slash to thad jarvis
sinatra to bublé
rob to the goulet
y to the 2k
fly like a bouquet
lay on the duvet
stay high resolution, blu-ray, oops wait
a mystery wrapped in a riddle wrapped in an enigma
watchin’ malcom in the middle, so don’t ask me for the cl!cka
snacking on a pigs foot, pack a stick and bindle
in the flatbed of a pickup, yo i snaps the bigger picture
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