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Aesop Rock




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Aesop Rock Album


Fast Cars, Danger, Fire And Knives (02/22/2005)
02/22/2005
1.
2.
Number Nine
3.
Zodiaccupuncture
4.
5.
6.
Rickety Rackety (feat. Camutao & EL-P)
7.
Food, Clothes, Medicine
8.
Facemelter (on re-release)
. . .



Who's that walking with a whole in his head?
Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread.
What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives.
Fast cars, danger, fire and knives...
I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed

I pull the elephant tranq out of my neck, gaffle a tank, count up the chips, wrestle the fangs off of my fist, flood a little soldier blood over the ogre acres on some holiday in Cambodia with moter home appraisers. Pagans fade into the kodochrome now, later with a lid to brow staple revist the cobra landing zone. Molar foaming but he hold his own wound coderized by the Zippo he had stole that afternoon. And my dog tags jingle by the moster island heart he built. Grew up with a Jughead crown tild and tardy slip. Be all you can be just never soothed us. You lost me in that part about scrubbing piss with a toothbrush. Holler scum's lullaby. Live from the ultra-fly sham city bunker where the coldest cults multiply alarmingly. Hush little baby, timeout. The black market mockingbirds can not sing a lick but lean to peck your eyes out of commission with love, out a tradition of wraiths pick on the visions that buzz, bet on the kitten's escape, solder the piston to pump out a veteran amplifier. And magnify through the samelens that set the ants on fire. Flush the muppet hootenanny. Who could fancy honor circuit when the circle's every duke is clammy? Trooper, scoop the food in pantry. Anti up, stupid. May delusion feed 'em foofi candy and pry the gold out of his when lamping. Pocket all you can now. Block will lead the lambs down to the cold cutlery outfit. Slaughter beef and cow tip. Pour the chief somefountain soda, motor prone to pen the holy opus and pry this monkey off the scoliosis.

Who's that walking with a whole in his head?
Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread.
What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives.
Fast cars, danger, fire and knives...
I got her majesty Athena riding shotty wide-eyed

Never mind the bullocks. Like every other week these hipster tabloids jumping on and off my sex pistol's bullets. Like every other week he spins the bottle. Like every other week these fucking fanzines forget if they spit or swallow. Too bad your inner sheep never forgets to follow, cuz my inner greed to feed your hate for loving us is hostile. Fortunate for me it coincides with what comes natural, so the mongrels that I run with turn the 'fuck you's into fast food. Like a little freak sick of the 3 o'clock bully knuckle dust, nursing his last shiner, finds the shoebox in his smother's truck. Tomorrow's extra curricular punching bag will finger daddy's widow maker out a brown lunch bag. This is where the hunch back snake oil peddlers stuck under the burgundy sky of spaghetti westerns tend to bubble up. Weathermen huddle up. Today the son of one too many 'yes sir's kings his checkers, watch the double jump. Back with a platter of hot leeches that'll drink up-every bloody drop down to the last diseases, it's A-E-S-O-P-R-O-C-K, the peak twister. Defender of the son of Vaughn Bode's Cheech Wizard. I used to pray the treatments got easier with my aging like serotonin weekends were merely comedic hazing. Wrong, but along his travels located the key to world peace: kill every motherfucker but me. You cool with that? Cool. Bang. You? Cool. Hang. You? No? Uh... bang? Cool. Sorry, dog, rules is rules. And too long have I followed yours. I'm trying to get them years back, and walk through every cipher with dynamite in a beer hat.

Who's that walking with a whole in his head?
Big bad Bazooka Tooth, I came to break bread.
What's a troop's recipe for treacherous times?
I tell 'em fast cars, danger, fire and knives.
Fast cars, danger, fire and knives...


. . .

Number Nine

[No lyrics]

. . .

Zodiaccupuncture

[No lyrics]

. . .



[{background vocals i.e. Aesop Rock} (sampled vocals i.e. NOT Aesop)]

[Intro: Various Samples]
(Give him one of these pills if he has any pain)
(A parable....What is it? Well it's a little story with a lot of truth
An earthly story with a heavenly meaning
Jesus told many parables to grown-ups and children alike
He told them simply and sincere, in words everyone could understand
So that all might learn the lesson he was trying to teach...)
(Yeah!)

[Verse Intro: Aesop Rock]
They were selfish with the helmets on the little bus
'Till brick fluid sewage crippled up the get-retorted nickel punks
Slowly cope but swore his lowly robot vole evoke
Would someday rise in sections to interrogate the Holy Ghost
(I knew it!)

[Verse: Aesop Rock]
Holy smokes!
Father, black suit white collar
Kiddie porn dungeon, guns, and three fingers for your daughters
Caught belly-up, antique Nazi paraphernalia
You can not pay you bills with holy water and Hail Mary luck (Oh my!)
Shut this fucker, enjoy the Alcatraz shower fun
and mommies Madame cliche generation Agnostic front
It ate the nifty fate, the 1958 before the New-New Testament approved altar-boy fistic rape
And "take me to your leader" lung as he dope manipulate toddler-fever (Leave him alone!)
Call me crazy but I'll bet that wasn't God's demeanor
Saw the meter peaking (Me too!)
Along island was Jesus every weekend spoon-fed to appease traditional love bringing
of a little Pennsylvania shit-hole where elders movement
stressed the stellar therapeutic Bible cycle {How?}
One church with a fate and tackle store next door and not much MORE
So the two moved to New York, made babies raised on what they SAW
Christmas morning smelled fresher than angel pussy
But immaculate conception came second to playful goodies
Like laser-tag was way more spiritual than blood and body wafer bags
And mangier staff is swung as Santa ate the cookies (Well...)
When I was a saint ????? paint with snakes in Belize
said If only you'd memorized your prayers like you did your Kool-G!
By the time I was old enough to know what religion was
I was Catholicism-numb and truly didn't give a (FUCK!)
94' Moved out the crib and it ain't seen a steeple since
What Knievel-evil seeps in a Christian leader's pitch
'till priests slack, slapped with parental advisory warnings
I'll be auditioning God's in my office on Monday morning

[Chorus: Various Samples & Aesop Rock]
(Yeah!) [Scratched throughout chorus]

Uh oh! And yet another pill slipped
down the hatch and pass 'em through the kill-switch

I need a couple A's for Q's
I'm not an asshole I'm just a little confused

[Interlude: Sampled]
(This story reminds us of the one Jesus told about people who were kind and
helpful
to others. He said that one day the king would say to these people:
Come. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food
When I was sick and you visited me. I was in prison and you came to me
But the people asked, when Lord did we see you hungry and feed you?
Or sick or in prison and come to you? and the king answered:
In as much as you have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren
You have done it unto me)
(Yeah!)

[Chorus: Aesop Rock]
Just a little bruise in the back of the pews
Acting amused with a mask on them Vatican blues
For in the eyes of the organization I was raised in
Aes is just another cynic-brick in Hell's basement
Cubicle adjacent to the killers and rapists
For what? Drugs and fuck it, It's part of growing up
Like cups over dumb shits better than the schools
I'm not an asshole I'm just a little confused
Just a lit fuse in the back of the pews
Watching a thousand flavors of the same God feud
I figure ultimate-peace is the common theme
So its a no-brainer piece when the blood hit the screen
Got a basic good and evil sensibility born
Good neighbor know a halo ???? from horns
The more science invade, the more the karma than bread and booze
I'm not an asshole I'm just a little confused
Not an asshole I'm just a little confused
Not an asshole I'm just a little confused
Not an asshole I'm just a little confused

(You know what Aesop, to be completely honest you're a fucking asshole)



. . .



[Verse 1]
Parachute ratty, one bunk cord now the air is scooped badly
Dripping out the sticks like a twig-tweed hammock
Miter cut the cables for that quick, clean transit
Miser took the big screen; Panic made a business card
Ankle out of whack, painkiller tobacco scrap
We navigate the yellow corn hype for the barn
When the spotlight swiveled hard right over the farm
Post up, 3 cheers for the gimp
Spread thank you (3 on the right)
Limp to the door, splint what he mangles (3 on the left)
Yea I knew the percentages
But the numbers were unaware of the grand finale's emphasis
And over the scent of a thousand dead dogs
Agent ?Zip-Zooka? swore to pull it off, GAMEFACE
Walkie-talkies squawking up his hip regarding paratroopers: 20 (Ha!)
Tug ??a noise/annoys?? box-trigger reporting for hunting

[Chorus]
I have landed safely
I have not recieved my papers
I have zero natural enemies
I don't know my location
I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding
I'm calling for my orders, over
(STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)

[Verse 2]
??? up in a killer horse, numb and bloodthirsty
'Till the uncle spitter beg the pig to hug mercy (Ha!)
240-below shit, kickers tickle the corpses (duck!)
Duck the widow-maker, also manufactures swords (ok...)
Manufactures ornaments, if it moves stick a fork in it
Winners take all, killers rape all coordinates
Unfortunately, courted by the most tenacious gaurdian
Whose aimless nature bait a holler ???? taste the martyr's skin
No ??semper-fide?? (Nope), no saluter units
Soldier the fire is more flesh than sulfer
And when the automatic-jitters wiggle the ribs
I feel so alive it don't matter which bitches litter is clipped (Bang!)
Sun down, goggle up; canteen gobble-juice
Teargas nozzle up, brain buff hostile youth
Chop it up, lock a noose upon it
You will die for the glory of...Shit, I can't put my finger on it
But it's big! Big and legitimate
Justify women and kiddie killer shit, iller it builds
So he is not a natural predator, but can dismantle an AK-47
Clean and rebuild before you can mayday bretheren (Mayday!)
Muddy-gut snake eyes, she approaches cobras with an ugly muck
And bloody Bowie knife clamped in the canines
Wake 'em with that blind military mechanism set to bludgeon
WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION!?

[Chorus]
I have landed safely
I have not recieved my papers
I have zero natural enemies
I don't know my location
I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding
I'm calling for my orders, over
(STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)
I was standing at attention with a pocket full of weapons
And the will to walk a mile in the same fatigues that I slept in
I have yet to find a day in life worthy of my saluting
I'm calling for my orders, over
(STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)

[Verse 3]
I shimmy up out of the fox
Hold the sword of the only after having logged every cadaver accordingly
High scores keep our Tama-tongs enthralled
(There is no course iller than no course at all)
Okay, if his perspective is smirked, sneaky detective work is aborted
And it's no longer whisper-mode on the red alert
No bed of dirt 'n' sniper rifle peeking out the bunker (uh!)
Now I'm set in city looking for something to puncture [gunshot]
Help me up, the numbers of the heroes sat at suppers
Treat the public like a tin can, riddled before it plummets (Brrrap!)
But, adrenaline can lead to lazy-eye hassles
So he list the little boy into the ??pin-up pineapple?? (Heh)
Thats funny...Bumps into the steel-toe
Thats lovely, sum it up in (Oh, hell no!)
And just as fast as the parachute cable snipped
I was rag-doll, horizontal, two limbs short of fixed
Link a baby pulled around the standard issued weaponry
While fading as a blemish in civility's memory
They will step over the body for the looting..
(Ready on the far end line)
(The fuck is that?)
STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!

[Chorus]
I have landed safely
I have not recieved my papers
I have zero natural enemies
I don't know my location
I have no training in reconnaissance, combat or colluding
I'm calling for my orders, over
(STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING!)
I was standing at attention with a pocket full of weapons
And the will to walk a mile in the same fatigues that I slept in
I have yet to find a day in life worthy of my saluting
I'm calling for my orders, over
STRAP ON A HELMET AND START SHOOTING! [SHOOTING!: Repeat till fade out]


. . .

Rickety Rackety

[No lyrics]

. . .

Food, Clothes, Medicine

[No lyrics]

. . .

Facemelter

[No lyrics]

. . .


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