Sublime - Semantic Blockage lyrics

*(fades in)* ...we're gonna know who to k**. We got you in this f**in' movie, to exterminate all the lunatics, all at once. We're the filtering system of God; we're the psychosemantic police -- you can't even see us! How in the f** can you do anything about it? We're pure intelligence; you're not. You're a biological product of the cosmoLOGICal universe; you're molecular matter. I constructed you, fu*k you. I made you up, you didn't make me up; you got it backwards. You know who you are? You're a f**in' semantic blockage. That's what made you up. You're a f**in' programmer named Christine Gontarek, who f**ed up. She s**ed my co*k. Fell in love, but she was locked in. She's gonna get her second chance to s** my co*k again. If she turns me down, she's gonna go straight to Hell. She won't pa** “go,” she'll never f**in' win. She's the c*nt who thought she was God, but that's okay, I don't give a sh** -- as long as she s**s me off when I tell her! ‘Cause she's my zombie. I captured that motherf**er and she's my ca**ette. I want that co*ks**er to send me, at least, fifty thousand f**in' dollars; if she can't do it, I'll try ten; if she can't do that, I'll try five -- but, that's it. If you've got a dowry of five thousand dollars, come out here and s** me off, do what I tell ya from now on then you can join me in eternal time. Ya hear me, Christine? You get one more f**in' chance. If you got ten thousand dollars… *(ca**ette stops)* Hey, you gotta be genuine. That's the name of this game. If you're real, you got nothin' to worry about; but if you're synthetic, startin' tomorrow your balls come off. If you're a f**in' Iranian named Alex whatever, you know you've lost your c*nt to me. Bend over, f** yourself in your ASS hole. Cause I'm takin' your A-hole f**in' family. They're purer than you are you spurious offspring of home-Q mooooneEEEYY. You f**in' devil's piece of spit. That's the size of your mentality: you're just a piece of spit. You're not even, f**in', a piece of whole American sh**. You ain't reached that semantic value yet. You're stuck in that f**in' sixth frame of the goddamn Mohammedan f**in' philosophy. Why you f**in' mental midget, you're just -- oh sh**, you're disgusting. You don't even understand mathematics, or arithmetic -- anything! You're a f**in' IDIOT on the scale of semantic values. You don't even know what that is. SPELL IT you motherf**er! Your c*nt belongs to me. I'll f** you in your a** if I ever see you, you f**in' chicken son of a b**h! You were gonna take me on? Come on, get me ya mother f**er. Grab me by my a** and s** me off. But I ain't gonna cum in your mouth ‘cause you're DEAD ALREADY you son of a b**h! Get your f**in' pinkie f**in' spies and get outta here – naw, we ain't gonna let ya go. I'm gonna tell you how smart you are motherf**er: you fell right in our TRAP. You come to the f**in' country of genius, freedom - America - thinkin' yer gonna con us outta our country? Why, f** you, you f**in' profane ba*tardS (with no f**in' capital on that f**in' ‘B'). That's a super f**in' discharge -- a MINUS f**in' ‘B'. You're gettin' graded, you co*ks**er; you're bein' judged; this is Judgement Day. You LOST, you mother f**ers. *(Spits.)* Just like that. You're not any f**in' reality – aaahhhh, any at all – you're just too f**in' valued, that's all. You're artificial. That means you don't even show up. You're not real; you're caught in a comic book. You're Rick Sevicstie. You're just a f**in' pinko commie, MOTHERf**in' goddamn hairlip spy. You're a ca**ette. So I'll butcher you, you co*ks**er, ‘cause you're not real but you're dangerous. So k** every f**in' one of ‘em right now. SIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEKEEEIIIIIEEEE. You're zombies. You can't get outta your frame. You're caught in a comic book you mother f**in' lame brain son of a b**h 'n' goddamn lunatic-tictictictictictictictictictictictictictictic-toctoctoctoctoctoctoctoctoctoc *(claps 7 times).* Time! Time for what? There's no such thing as time. Why not? ‘Cause, sh**, they had to have something to rhyme; they're all babies. If he'd rhymed it'd make some f**in' sense, they thought, but they were wrong -- well, f** ‘em. They don't know, they don't care, don't tell ‘em so, f** ‘em. Aaaaaaahhhhh – shut up! They'll hear ya. They wouldn't know what you mean. They can't get outta there, they -- they ain't got no brain, they got a jelly bean in their f**in' head. They call it a brain -- aaaaahhhhh -- that's not a brain, that's a jelly bean. It has a semantic value of a jelly beeeeeaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyynnah. *(Begins singing)* I am the gin of the jaca-di [???] …the tavern on the corner. *(Squawks like a bird.)* I am the gin of gunga din. IIIIIII went to the show with a gunga din so early in the morniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. I'm an American movie. I'm a groovie movie. I'm a John Wayne movie. IIIIII – biddily -- IIIII am, I am, I aaaaaammm. IIIII am GOd; IIIIIIII aaaammm capital ‘G' ‘O' lower case ‘D'. Who are you? I don't know you. Who in the f** are you? Get outta here. Get outta here you m-mother f**ers! You like were-wolves? I'm gonna send you some real ones, you co*k s**ers. Heeeyyyyy you mother f**in' f*ggots, you ba*tards -- oooooh, f** you, you co*k s**ers. You think you made me up? Weeeell I got news for you: I am IRONNNNY. You don't know how to spell me; f**, you don't even know I exist. You think that sets you free? f** you. Yooou will ooobey the booounds of RRRRRReality (that's a capital ‘R' you motherf**er). You're illiterate -- to truth. Without truth, there's no reality, you don't exist – aaaaaahh -- you're so f**in dumb you think you do. But life was a dream for you that pa**ed you byyyyy... You don't have the mentality of a common household fly. Hey, in the natural world of REALITYYYYYY in the order of a -- a capital ‘D', lower case ‘i', ‘p', ‘t', ‘e', ‘r', ‘a' – Diptera. ‘Cause you're just a piece of semantic f**in' blockage you little piece of pig sh**! CAMEL dung! Layin' on the bottom of the ocean but not quite touchin' because you ain't been warshed [sic] clean in ten thousand f**in' years and... Hey, if you wanna find the lost, hidden f**in' words outta there, buy ‘em from an American: give him some head; if he wants you to s** his co*k, get down on your f**in' knees; s** his co*k, pray to God, say, “Oh, Jesus, I hope he's an American ‘cause he might save my immortal soul; let him f** me in my a**hole; let him do anything he wants; take my c*nts; take my fu*kIN' money, please; take my wife; hey, take anything; take my camel; she's a good f**, I've tried ‘em all.” I'm God, the great con artist; I just f**in' bullsh** ya; I never tell you the truth; you'll never know what time it is ‘cause I ain't gonna let ya know. f** you! It's day one. See, I'm a liar; I'm the n******g; I'm the re-n******g of all; I'm the n******g turned inside-OUT, who is white on the outside and black on the inside. So I can check ya all out. And I have you all lost. You're all goin' back… *(ca**ette stops)* You're a se-man-tic flea; se-man-tic parrot. *(ca**ette stops)* And that is called se-man-tic poison. Blockage, co*kage, flockage, mooockage, magpie-ockage -- scar-diddly-arrr *(un-intelligible babble).* Eddie Evette -- that's the name of a psychic p**y cat who got a weird f**in' idea one day, lickin' the co*k of Raleigh! Ha! Fore-most-ah! For most only, only only Egyptian soldier -- once the father of you all. I'm not from the South of Egypt, am I? (I said “you all”.) Who in the f** are you? I don't recognize you co*k s**ers. You are not my children. Who in the f** are you? What are you doin' on my f**in' planet you freeloadin' mother f**ers? You been eatin' up your spaceship you dumb c*nts. There's only ladies and c*nts. All the ladies know the c*nts, but the c*nts think they're ladies! That's your n******g in that bunch. She's a n******g! She ain't a lady; that's why she likes to be called one. f** her, she's a c*nt. Every lady that thinks she's a lady gets f**ed! She's a c*nt, f** her. f** dumb ladies and f** dumb c*nts, or you're gonna lose your f**in' minds! Because somebody has convinced you that you got here on some kind of transcendental line, jackin' off! You're wrong. *(ca**ette stops)* Nothin' ever came out of dead testicles, of unics, ev-er! Every f**in day… ‘Cause I don't even have to look at their goddamn face. And that was the whole trick: just don't look these idiots in the face and let ‘em steal your f**in' secrets. f** em', let em do their own god damn work. Now let's go. *(ca**ette stops)* To be able to do that la-ha-ha-ha-ha-la-slh-sa-lascivici-lashivisi-sa-lasciviously! You see I am an automaton of God. I'm a YOGA-HAAA; I'm a YOGIIII. I am everything because I am the foundation, I am the SOURCE -- of all! “All what,” you say? All of YOU, you mother f**ers. I'm your big Daddy (with a capital ‘D')! What the f** are you doin' spellin' my name capital “G”, lower case ‘O', lower case ‘D'? You little mouse minded mother f**er, you remind me of a Mickey! Not a f**in' watch! Not a drink! Not a knockout punch! Not a Sunday like 1941. But that's what the little mouse had done. Mother f**in' Disney was a COMMIE ONE. And he says, “come on over here boys, all the s**ers are over here.” That was John Wayne. They're all, at sight of me, just trembling in their f**in' patriotic BOOTS! What the hell happened? We lost our country; that's right, you sure did, you bunch of galoots. YA NEVER TRANSCENDED hip street-talk! None of you East side punks, West side punks, North side stories or, ah, morning glories -- well, what a -- you f**in,' bunch 'a a**holes, you're not intellectuals, YOU'RE STUPID! I AM THE MAFIA. Listen to me: I am any f**in' thing I say I am; I am, I am. And if you wanna challenge me to a qualification match, put your f**in' ASS on the line because I'll blow your f**in' BRAINS out, my funny valentine, if you don't know the f**in' answers -- ‘cause that means that you're no son of mine and you're a blas-schemer. It's a schemer; that's what a blas-phemer is; it's a scheme against God -- the highest authority in your f**in' world, and the highest authority in mine too. And we're two panes apart so you can't f**in' blow sh**! You're locked in the paradigm you mother f**ers. Try to blow that atom bomb. It can't be done. You're in purgatory you co*k s**in' turds. You're not even good American sh**. You're just very small, unnourished little pieces of sh**! You lost your holy comic books. You went for line drawings and you f**ed up, you f**in' idiooot. You brainwashed yourself you motherf**in stupid co*k s**ers! Because you never studied your Holy Homework! (That's two capital ‘H's there! All the rest are lower case in any f**in' case.) Supreme Court, you are NOT the f**in' supreme court of anything -- except HELL! For the next ten thousand years you will shovel your sh** and eat it because you're on re-feed motherf**er, and it just started backwards and you can't do a f**in' thing about it. The public are gonna take back every f**in' thing from you that you took away from them you mother f**ers! *(from background, orderly comes in.)* Orderly: Raleigh. Raleigh: Yes. Orderly: This is the deal. Raleigh: Yes, what is the deal? Orderly: You either cool it down, right now -- Raleigh: Or you're gonna f**in' die! Orderly: …or you're outa here. Raleigh: Oh, you're gonna put me out? Well, I ain't leavin,' mother f**er; now whattaya gonna do? Orderly: You understand? You understand? Raleigh: What're you gonna do to this little kid, huh? Orderly: You're gonna go to the psych ward. Raleigh: Well good, that's where I wanna go. Orderly: Yeah -- you're gonna be right there. Raleigh: That's exactly right, and I'll take -- Orderly: So you better cool it down. You better cool it down right now, I don't wanna hear anything else outa this room, or -- Raleigh: Or you're gonna -- WHAT? Orderly: Or you're gonna go to the psych ward. This is your last opportunity. Raleigh: Yeah, okay; I get it, let's go. Orderly: Shut your f**in mouth... Raleigh: All right. Orderly: …and don't make any more waves in the house, otherwise you're goin' to the psych ward. Raleigh: Well, that's exactly what I'm gonna do -- I'm gonna go to the psych ward, and I'm gonna shoot my f**in' mouth off. So get outa here, you're cuttin' into my commercial. Orderly: You understand? Raleigh: I'M MAKIN A fu*kIN COMMERCIAL! I'm a business man. GET OUTA HERE! You're tryin' to get in on this f**in' thing -- you ain't no star, a**hole, you're just a f**in' errand boy. Orderly: *(Laughing)* You -- you're the craziest son of a b**h I ever met. Raleigh: Exactly! Orderly: Now you better -- Raleigh: I'm an American! Orderly: This is the last warning, Raleigh. Raleigh: Good! Shut up! Orderly: *(Chuckles)* Anymore outta you… Raleigh: Yeah! Orderly: ...and you're goin' to the psych ward. Raleigh: See? You lie. Orderly: Anymore outta you -- Raleigh: You don't eat your feedback. Orderly: You need to understand that. Raleigh: I -- I understand that. Orderly: As long as you understand that, that's the rules, Raleigh; either you cool it -- Raleigh: Whoever comes in this f**in' room, I'm gonna k** ‘em -- that's what I'm gonna do. Orderly: Oh are ya? Raleigh: Yes. Orderly: I'm in your room Raleigh. Raleigh: Well, you come in against -- Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: This is not -- Orderly: I'm in your room Raleigh. I'm in your room. Raleigh: Well, back out! Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: Back out! Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: Back out! Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: Back out! Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: Back out! Orderly: I'm in your room, f** head. Raleigh: Back out! Orderly: I'm in your room. Raleigh: Words don't bother me man; actions do. Orderly: *(Laughs)* Then do it! Go for it dude. Raleigh: Well, if you come to me, you're gonna f**in' die! Orderly: Go for it! Go for it! Raleigh: That's right -- I'm not goin' for nothin'! Orderly: Go for it! You little f**in' wimp. Raleigh: I ain't goin for nothin'. Orderly: You little f**in' wimp. Raleigh: You f**in' reach for me and I'm gonna take your arm off, I'm tellin' ya. Orderly: Come on! Come on! Raleigh: I ain't comin'; you come. Orderly: Cool it, Raleigh. You understand that? You got it? Either you cool it or you're outa here. That's the only choice you have. Raleigh: Try it. Orderly: You're gone dude. Raleigh: Who's gonna enforce it? Call the cops mother f**er. Call the cops! I said call them. Orderly: We got witnesses right now. Raleigh: No witnesses, call the f**in' cops. I'll call the f**in' cops on YOU, you co*ks**er, RIGHT NOW. Orderly: Good. Raleigh: Nine-One-One Orderly: Call ‘em. Call ‘em Raleigh: Just like that. Orderly: Good Raleigh: And you'll never get outta here, mother f**er. Orderly: Yeah? Come on. Raleigh: I would like to do an emergency call, please. There's a psychopathic tryin' to k** me in my f**in' room. Now get them cops over here to 12309 Cantara street, please. He is standing in my door, I told him to get outta here, he tells me he's gonna put me in the psycho tank -- for makin' my production here which is a SCIENCE FICTION magazine -- but he's trying to scare me cause he thinks he's big, but he's just a big pile of sh**, ‘cause I'll splatter him all over the f**in' wall. I want you to record all of that. That's a PRE-PROGRAMMING for the police department and send ‘em over here, ‘cause I'm about to k** him in two seconds. Now get them over here as fast as you can, please. I hope you're recordin' this. See, I could walk down, and GET the f**in' cops. Orderly: Good -- do that, Raleigh -- do it now. Do it right now; get the cops. Raleigh: I'm gonna get my f**in' wallet. You just keep your f**in' hands to yourself -- I'll tear your arms off, and beat you up your ASS with ‘em! You f**in' little snot-nosed-punk f**in' mentality -- don't gimme that f**in' sh**, you're a punk. Not a punk, you're a PUNK! Now -- you call the cops, I'm not gonna waste my f**in' time -- get outta here. That's right, all you -- f**in' b**hes from behind that f**in' mirror -- GET OUTTA HERE! You're not guests anymore; f** you, get outa here you mother f**er. I got you all on tape, co*k s**ers. You're crazy; you're outa your f**in' mind. Did we get all that sh**? Come on… *(ca**ette stops)* You thought you could steal this f**in' government, you co*ks**ers; you are certainly naïve; no, you're stupid; you're ignorant; you're somewhere in between, some f**in' degree of -- I don't give a f** where you're at, you're a liar! I'm gonna k** ya every time I see ya, motherf**er. Keep your mouth shut or you'll die in five minutes. I'm Mr. f**in' Consistent -- “Logic” with a capital ‘L'; ‘o'-‘g'-i'-‘c', lower case (and you figure out where to punctuate it, apostrophate it, and inflate it). *(Fart noises)* Hah, deflate it – whatever, send it to me, it better be valid because I'm gonna k** ya if it ain't. If you're illiterate to meaning you motherf**er, you're dead. You got ‘til Friday at two p.m. From right… now! *(Makes knocking sound on desk)* Supreme court, pa** it into law – karma -- ahhh, principality, cause and effect -- aahhh! Intermission. Hey, I'm not God; I'm a science fiction writer. My name is Raleigh Theodore Sakers; yeah, that's me. I'm a f**in genius, obviously. You need my help; spiritually, you're weak. I don't do this sh** for nothin', you pay me, you motherf**ers. I did all your homework for you, now I'll sell it back to ya: fifty thousand f**in' dollars a page. So get your f**in' money together, and chip in or some-f**in'-thing, and get spiritually educated while I'm here ‘cause I ain't gonna hang around here for long. You make me sick; I'm gonna vomit; I don't wanna regurgitate on sacred ground because I may f**in' drop something natural somewhere and it might grow into another piece of sh** like you. I don't recognize any of you f**in' people. You're not real; you came outta comic books. You're words that don't qualify to outside, real-life reference. You don't make up the f**in' words of the sacred language system, you just apply ‘em appropriately. You have to use abstractions! That is mathematically balanced where that don't mean any-f**in'-thing. You're just mocking the language system by makin' up words that don't exist! They have no value schemes at all. They don't say anything. Polly wanna crackerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… *(20 seconds later)* ...If you can't do that, don't f** with me. I'm a Yoga; I'm a yogiii. I am the source and I am the guyyy... Yo' my gal; I yo' guy. Haha, hehe -- ya get it? I'm an American: I'm hip; s** me off and get smart. You get smarter every time you s** my peter. I'll let you s** my peter for fifty thousand dollars -- *(makes ticking noise)* Juana Barrett, Linda Darnell, and a few more. See what I mean? Just add any name you want. It's a form. I'll sell it to you for fifty thousand dollars, I don't give a f**. Let ‘em s** ya off; go ahead, be a man, be a sport; they're dumb, but, hey, let ‘em get smart; they're close, let ‘em s** ya off; you real, American, man, cum in their mouth; grab ‘em by the back of the neck and press that vagus nerve; that's it, work her head up and down, she's a doll, f** her in the mouth, stick that co*k down her throat; turn her on, bust your nuts in her f**in' mouth and have her play with her c*nt while she s**s it! That's the whole trick; that's what turns her on. Then she gets hot and busts her nuts and she joins you and wants to s** your co*k any time you'll let her. You guys don't know what love is. “YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIIIS, UNTIL YOU LEARNED THE MEANING OF THE BLUUUUES. UNTIL YOU HAD A LOVE YOU HAAAAD TO LOOOOOSE. YOU DON'T KNOOOOW WHAAAAAAAT LOVE IIIIIIIIS.” Let's see -- what's happening? Sacks are fillin' up again here -- yeah, yeah. Well we can stop that thing, ya know, any f**in' time we want. Let's do it. *(ca**ette stops)* It was a real strange thing the other day along the Appalachian hiiiiiiiiiiiiigghhhhway, and the stars, and the GALAXY – HEY, called the Mars candy bars f**in' corporation or somethin' like that -- and we got confused with that planet of ‘E'-‘T'-‘C' (period). That mother f**in' so on and so forth, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, etceteraaaaaa – “you're in the army nooow.” That so and so so-called society of ‘E'-‘T'-‘C' *(laughs).* Quotation marks -- “civilization” (ahhh, those are all lower case letters) -- end quotation, period! Lemme tell you where you're at mother f**ers: you bought a f**in' ticket and came in here, and you thought you were gonna see a science fiction movie; well, I'll tell you what you're gonna be, you're gonna BE a science fiction-piction movie. It's called *Science Friction.* And we're gonna burn some heat in your f**in' head and give you a little sinew in your f**in' brain; we're gonna remodel you're neuronal structuring and unlock ya. We got your neumeric [sic] code. We're the Gods. Planets of Gods. And you co*ks**ers'll do what we tell ya to do ‘cause we're from outer space -- we ARE outer space, you motherf**ers. You're invadin' private property; you're invadin' Heaven. That's what THE VOID is! There's NOTHIN' in here, you motherf**ers. You're just thinking there is. You enter here and you're f**in' sh**; you've entered Hell, you co*ks**ers, ‘cause everything reverses. And that's God's f**in' acid test; and that's the supreme one; that ain't no "supreme court" there on the ground; that doesn't even register like a genuine, who*e-hound, f**in' piece of candy; that motherf**er is artificial all the way; that's communism. They thought they could incorporate democracy -- k** the motherf**ers called Jews. They tried to frame our poor – yeah, poor, yeah, oh yeah, poor – few poor, unfortunate -- yes, yes, yes – negros, hm? Ex-slaves, yes... brought over here to work on those plantations ‘cause he didn't have anything else to do; he was just runnin' around in the f**in' weeds, tryin' to have a lion or camel or any f**in' thing he could find for lunch. But when he found ‘em they f**in' ate him up ‘cause he was dumb; he didn't even know how to plant corn; he didn't know the use of the tool; he didn't know anything; he was a f**in' fool (with no capitals at all); he didn't know how to spell; f**, he had no values, really; ‘cause he couldn't write ‘em down, see; he had no central language system; he got that from the WHITE MAN, that cauc-cauc-cauc-cauc-cauc-cauc-"honkey," he calls ‘em. And brainwashes ‘em, see? That honkey's so f**in' stupid that he let that n******g -- yeah, that f**in' n******g -- talk him outta his language system. But it was the Jew who framed the n******g! The Jew that doesn't have any capitol at all and he just took one. He framed his way right into Christianity, sh** yeah. He knew he had it all locked up, that co*ks**er, I was watchin' him; I saw that n******g re-n******g; that's right, he n******g'd twice; that's what a f**in' n******g is; a n******g who's n******g'd twice, the re-n******g; that's the ni**er (with the capital ‘N'-‘I'-‘G'-‘G'-‘E'-‘R'); that's the devil, that's satan; that's opposite, that's EXACT opposite; that's extreme, that's opposite; that's the exact opposite extreme of truth and everything that's real; it's artificial, it's BULL-sh**! "It's formal philosophy; ah, It's not philosophy." Quote that, f**er, that's a Quotion [sic] of maaaaan. Hey, man made himself up; what the f**, he made everything up; he invented words; he framed the game; he made the rules; he changes ‘em every time he gets in f**in' trouble; he's full of sh**; he's bullsh**; he's TRAPPED in a comic book logic that's too valued; it's not real; he's not real; he's not alive; he's a zombie; he's DEAD! I'm not gonna resurrect him, I'm sending him back; take back to the drawing board, mister artist; redesign please; signed God. I refuse to accept ‘C'.'O'.'D'; f** it, I won't pay for it; I don't want it; take it back. *(ca**ette stops)* That's chapter one. Would you like to have chapter two? You better, son of a b**h; I know the way; I'm here; I'm on the other side; I'm sittin' right here in my apartment; I'm transcendental man; the first one; the first f**in' man to mature on this planet; I'm the only f**in' man there is; you guys are bullsh**; you're eight to ten percent man; you're in the RACE of man; you're not man; you're not me; you're nothing; you're sh**. *(ends)*