when i get introspective i put the safety on
make these songs

with the biscuit sittin in my shaky palms

i'm a man now (a real man)

not the one who went to two colleges

grovellin' over meal plans

i'm starin' at the ceiling fan

all wide-eyed

amazed by the ways the blades break the silence

i used to be afraid of firin'


it sounded startling
but now i'm starting to hate the quiet moments

might remind you of a mike

by the way i hold it (to the grill)
a homophobic rapper


unaware of the graphic nature of phallic symbols

tragically ironic, suckin' off each others' gats & pistols

i got more back issues than guns and ammo

'cause my oozy weighs a ton

and i never let go of the handle

hangin' on to mommy's pant leg

double-fistin'

knee-deep in shells kickin' ballistics

this dick is a detachable penis

an extension of my manhood positioned like a fetus
an intravenous hook-up feeds bullets to my magazine


nevermind the bullocks, my pistol is a sex machine

guns yo (sex machine)


bust it
i got another gun (what)


i keep it in my briefcase
it keeps me safe at my workplace

cubicle gangster who's in need of his personal space

angster of love who's unable to look girls in his face

'cause i know that all the stupid people increase the birth rate

i'm just about dumb enough to hold up a sperm bank
make my demands and then facilitate fur trades


empty the bird cage and release the mermaids

huh


i got a watergun
i keep it in my mouth

it keeps me safe from the things i like to speak about

but words are leakin' out
and all these smiles that i crack



are like a dam on the verge of collapse
there ain't no turnin' back

in fact i can't hold down my fluids

can't retract statements

without water displacement

flooded the basement

then sought refuge

removed my waterproof vest and then i kicked off my wet shoes

made it to dry land

pistol in hand


fistfuls of ammo riding on a camel
thru a desert of sand
lucid dreams are a lot like computer screens


people have pretentious conversations but i shoot the breeze

blow a hole straight thru their long-winded theories

hold my own and make songs for them to sing with me

its the same type of heat that millie used

to break the ice with santa claus
when she made him sing the christmas blues


capitalists strung her up for killin'em


every manufactured holiday they sacrifice another victim
before wartime depression sets in

i get to step in


and shoe shine my weapon
i'm hemorrhoid, i'm the leader


you're dead like dey la
i hold my crotch like a nine-millimeter
guns yo


(i'm on fire) (me too)

(nine-millimeter) (sex machine)