Låttexter: Aesop Rock. Fast Cars, Danger, Fire and Knives. Food, Clothes, Medicine.

[Sex noises]

(food clothes medicine)

Heh. So y'all know it's nearly a hundred and ten degrees in this fuckin' vulgar room domain.
Got the motherfuckin face paint on, lets go.
(food clothes medicine)

(food clothes medicine)
(fuck me)

Two shoes chewed up, colluded with the fueds rogue veterans
food clothes medicine
Weilding out the smokestack factory trained to capture in the zoo's ghost predators
food clothes medicine
I think I'd funk a bunk colony to possibly amuse grown delegates
food clothes medicine
Peace, the whippersnapper generation greet 'em with a full-blown pistol pull
food clothes medicinal variety
for every plastic orange bottle
for tarnished pharmacy labels chafed in abrasive pockets
suit the hellhounds with blades and chainlinks
for the dead walk a little less clumsy than you think
hunger pains chump change
tell it to how his belly get when booji hopes hellions
food clothes medicine
alumni bum i got the skin of my teeth between my fingertip and stellar
lets bet it melts together
let's get these men some shelter
three hops on a cot with quaaludes on a pillowcase left on an ultimately cordial gesture
by the staff it's a bathhouse for brave soldiers
where they coordinate the fornicating whores in maid's clothing
sip a hot mug of kick a chump up to the apple box
frankie says "relax", twenty says he snaps
safe wager,
hell ninety percent sensitive jubilee never return to brag about that fish bigger than you and me

Walk on glass, cruise closed residence
bang on doors, food clothes medicine
united we stand 'til all our parties click
I divide and conquer 'cuz frankly I'd rather sit
These are them rat races,
machine a man sprocket of fat laces
Hatchback and flashbacks from a heyday full of bad lasers
now major ace route the following orders to all his crews, clones, generals
food clothes medicine

walk on glass, bang on doors,
talk all trash, hang on whores,
hock all cash, bank on wars like
(food clothes medicine)
it's yours (x4)
(food clothes medicine)

(*moans* fuck my pussy hard *moans*)

We rotate protocol on a ring finger neighbor to peruse gross negligence
food clothes medicine
martyrs leak faster if the carver tweaks the dagger ninety moves choke citizens
food clothes medicine
well yeah pull frickin's apple you've sapped this commitment's castle cool dope excellent
food clothes medicine
it's tough to legislate when scum tongue down a dinner plate of booze coke heroin
...

I'll bite the hand that feeds chew the steak and spit the knuckles back
stitch 'em up and give 'em dap before his brothers rubberneck
Iron chef like a wainia christen kitchen stadium
with chicken and mashed serotonin driftin' into gravydom
Save me some, scallywags hold your breath
Their curmudgeon's gun dusty like the road to death
ya I could pinstripe my lizard kisser no killswitch
just a guilty gizzard with a recommended pill slip
I wipe placenta off my face in the height of the disco era
groove through liquid bubblegum, fevered death, and christmas sweaters
groove through saccharin, fast food, study hall, and cliffnotes benders
now holds a bachelors in training ninjas to tiptoe better
These are them sham city kidney kicks to the loose bolts belly-ache
tailored for clans who stand iffy on food clothes medicate
Pollywog hog a spot lit with bigger lizards in a land of hot milk and honey with stingers in it
Zinger
Jimmy the gist up check a tip cup mothers watch your babies near the preachers keen on fist fucks
keep your schnoz clean ears open choppers zipped up
food clothes medicine 'cuz hungry naked sick sucks
Collide your worker ants with autobahn inertia dance and curb them herped love bugs by the cursed final curtain clamp
Another savior with his foot cold stuck in his mouth I play that who knows food clothes fuck it amount

walk on glass, bang on doors,
talk all trash, hang on whores,
hock all cash, bank on wars like
(food clothes medicine)
it's yours (x4)
(food clothes medicine)

(Thanks to XAC for these lyrics)