Grimace Federation - Bosico lyrics

[Verse I] You look like you were charmed out of a basket Slack jaws clap straw homes Hit the piggy in the clapper claw zone Each a little Isaac Asimov Actually down to accurately whack-a-mole And get the taxidermy cataloged With or without this bag of bones on my back I'll be honest, to let a goat eat the map Still agree to bleed a birthstone Even if alerted to the dirt throne Freely by your tentacles squeezing into a turncoat Yikes, inertia days and vertigo nights It's when a batch of falling gavels blur the vertical stripes You ain't a leader among You're a bottom feeder eating his young We'll see who's teething when the beef is expunged Unless it shrivels up around us in the caving wake of daylight But more likely you slither off into the closest drainpipe Miffed, other insiders are finding solace Thought it wasn't ever in our quarters hoarding shiny objects Degree in beeswax never personal Which by the way have grown exponentially indiscernible Behind a picture in the wall or at the local pissing hole Where desperate images sully every second an empty coat I'm gonna guess you probably know everything I could ever tell you Plus a tiny bit more That's what you're for And you never met a bu*ton that you ain't push Or a s**er that you ain't mush Or a mother f**ing butcher [Bridge / Hook] The, the, the butcher The, the, the, the, the cleavers know exactly where to put you The, the, the butcher, the, the, the butcher, the, the butcher knife [Verse II] When out of focus go the handlers Answer to the hammerheads that camp under the scrambler box Swam off with a plaque for mounting antlers on Outpost scanners Of a yellow desert peppered with cow skulls and cameras Down fall the phantoms And a tale drawn long by a crown full of raw flawed canvas You should see the cough cough annex And D-up when your lullabies are peaking For the succubi that fawn over a good commandment breaching Alright sleeping 25A, feeder full of chicks on horseback Sailor Moon roof spewing horn hats Born to corner any harrowing defector Vector, through a delicate series of tech gestures Check, hood on my hair, foot on my neck, food in my trough Stewing the nuances of hooligan law Ran reds like a primed gazelle, priced to sell Because these window sill pies don't heist themselves From the tucker, home of the dozen bee sting summer Don't let them see your gills blushing seaweed color Chum, this little medium is dominant social predator fun It's really grown folks coming undone But um, I'm gonna guess you probably thought this all before me But better and with a more elite view That's what you do And you never met a bu*ton that you ain't push Or a s**er that you ain't mush Or a mother f**ing butcher [Bridge / Hook]