[Verse 1: Themba Ntaka]
The quicker picker upper, put in a jail cellar
All my favorite things to do are circular
Punk rock knocks
Police door-kick
Attrition warfare is the style to the rationale
Mathematician when I disperse
Then I hit them off with ol' Confusion of the Inverse:
So you must cease
Before I speak
Preceding when I make the lead course
You must leave yours
Bargain a term we use as jargon
Minus the barcode
Stores don't sell this
Clerical guy niche guy shifts to peasant
No crops sowed
How many bottles bought?
I didn't know it was my shift
There's still a lot of things that I don't get
I used to only use my hands cause I was greedy
And now I got a girl that volunteers to hand-feed me