El-P - Iron Galaxy Freestyle lyrics

Just when you thought it was safe To take a leisurely stroll You got shot in the face By a demon you know You could have saved like a dollar in change In high school, you were the man Now you're a target today My condolences, honest mistake Every one of god's children needs a Glock at the waist Wishing I could just wander in space like I Jonathan Frakes I'mma play the blues ‘til this ol' harmonica breaks ‘cause they're locked, loaded, lethal On some pop goes the eagle Itchy fingers that'll put a pothole between you But trust the Founding Fathers Nah, f** the Founding Fathers ‘cause they ain't ever find a way to stop owning people Now my pulse racing to the moon like Guarana Trying to find the secret in the Moonlight Sonata And a few pints of lager in my run down world While these uptown girls ask, “Have you tried Kabbalah?” They do lines on top of the lucite inside of the green room Always got a gospel to read you Clear the cobwebs or they're not gonna need you They want something new that their nostril can bleed to The Archangel of the R train playing on a harp made Of pieces of his scarred brain; insomniac Sleeping on a carpe diem ‘til no diem's left to carpe Screaming give my body back, living off of body fat Money in my waistband, hustle ain't a game plan Maybe I should just pop a Molly first f** it, I'll be huffing on a spray can, summoning the Day Man Y'all ain't even qualified for Charliework But you probably want to party with a starlet in Ibiza Like Polly wanna cracker or Polly's calling PETA I'm Rowdy Roddy Piper shouting onomatopoeia ‘til my people come together like the unibrow of Frida Well, can we get along? That ain't so bloody likely I'm an*lyzing every jagged angle of my psyche So maybe I could figure out why ain't nobody like me I blame it on the fact that there ain't nobody like me All it takes is a roll of the dice or flipped quarter For a kid born with the disorder of Chris Dorner To inflict horror upon us so switch formulas up Or get formal attire ‘cause I expect to live shorter But I still got the strength that my mother granted That helped me eat the knuckle sandwiches and double standards I'll never understand the underhanded You can play the role of Son of Sam, I'mma be the son of Sanford You gotta choose between the bleeders and mosquitos The name's Soul Khan but my homie calls me Mito