Dorks

(альбом: The Impossible Kid - 2016)

Question: If I died in my apartment like a rat in a cage
Would the neighbors smell the corpse before the cat ate my face?
I used to floss the albatross like Daddy Kane with the chain
I'm trying to jettison the ballast with the hazardous waste
The kid is comfortably numb, routine a tedious crutch
Steep in a self-imposed Stockholm and Lima in flux
Maybe an occupation popular with demons and ducks
Made any mingling akin to being seasoned and stuffed
It's a theatre of jumping jellyfish, jealous little sycophants
Miserable and flimsy from the skippies to the pissy pants
Each one seperately convinced
They're sketching with Da Vinci's hands
Delusion turned the communication to prison camp
You fucking dorks ain't a threat to the cause
There ain't a lesson we can learn from the ostensibly lost
I think it's funny when defendants from identical haunts
Step out the tempest
A measure of what the spectrum involves

Maybe no one cares, party over here, I'll be over there

[Sample Sweet Tee On The Smooth:]
Don't need no help, all by myself

I used to hang around with rappers at the root of the scene
It meant a lot to feel the fugitive community breathe
Maybe to sentimentalize is to be truly naive
I know some shit about your heroes that you wouldn't believe
I think we're all a bunch of weirdos on a quest to belong
The songs are echolocation up in impregnable fog
That's why it's odd to see a pile of imperfections and flaws
Ascend a pedestal to patronize the rest of the cogs
In a mess of obnoxious fantasy, posturing and pageantry
I ain't even mad, I'm impressed, shit it's baffling
God almighty, chop an ivory tower to piano keys
Play your own dirge on the way to surfing maggot beach
You fucking dorks ain't a source of the art
You can't be cooler than the corners
Where you source all your parts
The poker-faced, all it takes a couple sordid remarks
We let the manticore out, We make the sorcery bark

Life is so unfair, party over here, I'll be over there

[Sample Sweet Tee On The Smooth:]
Don't need no help, all by myself

I view the rattling of sabers like a show to expose
Insecurities exploding in emotional code
When braggadocio to go from mostly jokey to gross
Corrode a homie 'til his probity is notably ghost
Before the hobby was a jobby was a miniature Hell
You would wobble round your momma like an infant gazelle
The disillusionment has truly been a difficult pill
But you as anything menacing is a difficult sell
In a whistle and bell-o-rama, black mollies that dress up like piranha
It's not even compelling melodrama
It's a comedy, somebody wanna shop you as a saga
I'm very voluntarily persona non grata
You fucking dorks ain't the leaders we need
This ain't the medium for divas out to weasel and breed
I'm often coffee with the paupers over tea with the queen
Don't make him show the regency what disobedient means

Heavy load to bear, party over here, I'll be over there

[Sample Sweet Tee On The Smooth:]
Don't need no help, all by myself