Flying Lotus - Pyramid lyrics

[Produced by Flying Lotus] [Intro] FlyLo, Lupe, I go [Verse] Metabolize on the scattered snare With the banana pies that he don't like Like mosquito bites on the shins or ankles In the end it bends Let's begin and pretend it's tranquil Upset stomach on the boat to Lucerne to see the lion Carved in the wall by the pond To commemorate the soldier dying over old divines Ergo sum empire, not the inch but the entire More pills mean more spills by the who*e house with the extra door To let the divorced out with force And other course routes, of course Cleopatra speaking patois with a mouth full of that jerk chicken With rum in hand for the curse lifting Onion bread with the shine to it It's up and fair to define stupid But she ain't dumb, at least she know that he ain't fun And neither's Europe, even to the Middle Eastern tourists Where oil is spent by the drum load How many millionaires can the slums hold? Potentially all of us, this whole plane and all the bus As juggernauts bust through a wall of trust You strain to see through the fog of dust Like spaghetti for the meatballs Of dust Parmesan immaculates Head over heels like a back is flipped Japanese [?] Love labors, get her backstage like the judge chambers Everyone under the sun loves hugs from a young stranger Or do us, oh foo us On boats in the Bay of Pigs Runaways wait with the wayward kids And the underpaid slaves from Jamaican gigs Don't shoe us, cause we ain't Bush We ain't hoofs don't boo us cause we ain't cooked But who else could hook the fufu up In this book I mean, dumplings with dark continents Dumb things even bar common sense Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes a terpin intertwines with the turbans Vines with turbans and removes the minds of serpents Detergents, deterrents and permits, to build a hut Twerk team, Operation Build-a-bu*t Great like Gildersleeve As a king breathes through a silver sieve Jack and Jill ain't up that hill enough Filtering lean through a gold grill Theorize things from swole hills They came became what that po' k**s Throw ho drills on that hotel, that'll oil spill Looking at space from a submarine Putting that ba** in the club machine Pushing that cake till it mush in that face ain't no love between Fancy a** man wearing glove and rings Flying round town in a tub of wings Found out how to make love to fiends He mixing that fuzz with the drug of dreams She too teenage to have a drug of choice But she f** with that Royce like she love Detroit She rollin' (Pharaoh, pharaoh)