Fizz

(album: Garbology - 2021)

Through the valley with a howl and a hiss
Every step is like a house on a witch
Any Judas into sapping how I'm zapping get the trowel and brick
I'm all thought-crime, cowlick and fizz
You could pull up to whatever close encounter you want
Catch him with a dozen flowers or an owl and wand
Pick a path, firebrand, miss him with the hooey
Beleaguer a baddie and add 'em to ratatouille, oui
I still chief L's on a rooftop
You still need help with your juice box
I'm trouble, you troubleshoot a lot
Cue his blue blockers maneuvering through the future shock
Where fam from a different phase of the crawl
Get to step up and fail to communicate through a wall
Maybe it's less about escape and more a favor to y'all
After waking up with geometry engraved in his palm, either way

We are not the same, heaven is a lie
I think you a lame, lemme get a fry
We are in the weeds, begging for a sign
I think you a leech, lemme get a fry

I avoid sunlight, Chuckie, and buckets without fuzzy dice
Money pits, and sucker shit, and run-ins with the blood of Christ
Unabashed do-nothings who do nothing but multiply
And multiply, or any hooded reaper out to thumb-a-ride
Desert cottontail hanging from his talons
I been hanging with my demons
Future hanging in the balance
Plan a caper on a napkin
Trading slang into the evening
Drive a tank around Manhattan
What a world, what a world
Broken, bloody, undeterred
Local weather rumbling on some mother earth with stomach worms
Current mood bluer than a gummy shark
I should probably learn to move around the color bar
I should probably wear some jewelry made of human bone
It adds a visual component to my "you should go"
Thought bubble generally jam-packed, with dollar sign, exclamation point, ampersand, hash

We are not the same, heaven is a lie
I think you a lame, lemme get a fry
We are in the weeds, begging for a sign
I think you a leech, lemme get a fry

Miffed, stabbed, and flat dissed
Add a little music and the dagger do the twist
I'm a hazard to the mission, drop a dish in your room tone
Gaffle a bag of taffy, catch a tag on a tombstone, ey
Get accustomed to the irritated easily
I can not be trusted if motherfuckers is Tweedle Dee
Further, everything is either beeping or foreseen to be
Mobile ringing, I can feel my life force leaving me
Flesh a temple of doom
The whole rest go XO, red balloon
Bent spoons from the second I could shed the cocoon
To my controversial first fake step on the moon
At a mile off, home in on a protein for the goulash
Staring razors at 'em, shred a actor into udon
Strangers like "gimme 2 of, dude what are you on?"
A single dose of Woo-hah in the Yukon

We are not the same, heaven is a lie
I think you a lame, lemme get a fry
We are in the weeds, begging for a sign
I think you a leech, lemme get a fry