Bomb The Ba** - Bug Powder Dust (with Justin Warfield) lyrics

(I think it's time to discuss your ah Philosophy of drug use as it relates to artistic endeavor) Check it, yo! I always hit the tape with a rough road style You heard the psychedelic and ya came from miles Keep my rhymes thick like a Guinness brew So you could call me black and tan when I'm a wreckin' a crew I'm like Bill Lee writin' when he's in Tangiers And now I'm on a soul safari with my Beatnik peers an*log reel and a little distortion Smokin' on somethin' s'you could say I'm scorchin' I never been the type to brag but beware I'll make a man burn his draft card like it was Hair Send ya up the river like you lookin' for Kurtz I got the mugwump jism up in every verse (verse, verse, verse, verse) I always hit the apple when I'm going to shoot So you can call me William Tell or Agent Cooper to boot Mr. Mojo Risin' on the case again So tell your mother and your sister and your sister's friends Like an exterminator running low on dust I'm bug powder itchin' and it can't be trussed Interzone trippin' and I'm off to Annexia I gotta get a typewriter that's s**ier My name is Justin that's all that's it And I'll be spittin' rhymes wicked like it ain't for this sh** Houses of the Holy like Jimmy Page But the Song remains the Same so I'm stuck in a rage Just like Jane when she's going to Spain I think I'm going away tomorrow, just a fool in the rain Light up the candles and bless the room I'm paranoid, snow blind, just a black meat fool Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover Never been a fake and I'm never phony I got more flavour than a packet of macaroni Rock drippin' from my every vowel I've got the soul of the sixties like Ginsberg's Howl Shootin' mad ball and I'm always jukin' Take you to the hole and I'm surely hoopin' Top of the pops like the Lulu show I'll take a walk on Abbey Road with my shoes off, so I got a splinter though, damn, you know man it hurt I got a Vegemite sandwich from Men at Work I keep minds in line, but time sublimes So when you search you find something like a gold mine A psychedelic meandering's in the poem I got a pad up any place that I roam Waiting for the sun on a Spanish caravan Solar eclipse and I'm feeling like starin' man Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover Who's that man in the windowpane Got somethin' on his tongue and it's startin' to stain Sho' nuff equip so wop n'get down Step up on my ladder and you'll get beat down Hash bar style so I'm singin' dayglow Wakin' up the dead like Serpent and the Rainbow Jeff Spicoli roll me another hey The Fish that Saved Pittsburgh with Dr. J Shockin' your a** like a faulty vibrator Hear me now, but you'll probably get the vibe later Who knows where the wicked wind blows Que será será, just leave it alone Great Space Coaster toast up the town tinker Makin' midgets with my man Dr. Shrinker Pa** the hookah, throw down the pillows Cloth on the ceiling, blow rings that billows Kick off the shoes and relax your feet Now roll up your sleeves for this lyrical treat Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover Bug powder dust and mugwump jism The Wild Boys runnin' round Interzone trippin' Letter to Control about the Big Brother Tryin' like hell to not blow my cover (I think it's time for you boys to share my last taste of the true black meat; the flesh of the giant, aquatic, Brazilian centipede.)