Aesop Rock Coffee / Pigs
/// Coffee ///
[Aesop Rock]
We don't need no walkie-talkies, nope no walkie talkies
We don't need your coughing when offing the morning coffee
No, we don't need no walkie-talkies, nope no walkie-talkies
We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go
[Aesop Rock]
And the last shall be
First to immerse in the pass out heat
Face in the mud where the moxie melt
'Till he woke up drowning in tchotchke hell
More in a cave with a torch on the wall
Than a window arrangement of porcelain dolls
On a brand new day, saw what he saw
Property owners who crawl to the mall
With a bad toupee and a face like he author the law
Pace like he mourning a loss
Right hand on a can of worms
Left full of gold he will trade for turf, I mean
That's ok, you got to answer to you at the end of the volatile day
But a model of mercy and might, no way
Marionette who will clap and obey
Dude, look, all that noise
Call that flight of the water boys
Meet and greet and they all slap five
Cheek to cheek when they colonize
And a grown-ass man shall abide as he wish
Walk that path with a dime and a stick
Walk that path with a diamond and wine
Walk that path to the firing line
Just walk, pay no mind
To the new recruit with the play-doh spine
Let's be friends from opposite ends
Wave to the kid don't hop on the fence
Play to the radius far and away
Orbit wide don't park in his space
One little martyr who talk in his face
Make one little Weathermen sharpen the blades
[Aesop Rock]
We don't need no walkie-talkies, nope no walkie talkies
We don't need your coughing when offing the morning coffee
No, we don't need no walkie-talkies, nope no walkie-talkies
We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go
[Aesop Rock]
And the last shall be
First to the curb with the mad cow meat
Face in the bars of a regular cell
When he woke up high in collectible hell
Boom town kid who was taught by the binge
That a man who expire with the most shit win
That's warpy American nonsense penned by the rich
Not a routine friend in a pinch
Still not used to the stench
How it throws off otherwise lucid events
In the case the afraid observe
I got a Pro-Keds box full of layman's terms, it goes
Hey, peace, pray for the plagued
Major relief and capacious rains
But just cuz I don't want to war with you
It don't mean go warm up the barbecue
I'm like pardon you, sawed off limit
My high noon is a quick little minute
I don't wanna spend it sitting with a critic
Who simply isn't going to ever really get it
This HQ is alive and alone
No driveway no sign of a home
No dial tone, no line for the phone
No world's tiniest violin song
And I might just lie to them all, lie in the morgue
With a deep breath hiding and bored
Fighting a smile, highly annoyed
When the timing is right I will rise and record
Call for the monster beats and Blockhead got
Animal drums like he's doctor teeth
It goes red light green light 1 2 3
One large coffee, fuck you, peace
[Aesop Rock]
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
[John Darnielle]
I crawled down to the basement
When the weather got cold
Like a lost lamb returning to the fold
And when the outside world recedes from view
It's just a year's supply of make-up
And memories of you
1967 Colt 45, holding back the vampires
Keeping me alive
There's an envelope with some cash in it
Out by the front door
This is what they make you take the medication for
/// Pigs ///
*Someone plays harmonica*
Ay
Whats this fuckin' guy doing?
What are you doing?
Right now, what are you doing?
What are you doing?
Yuh
Yes sir (Yep)
Put change sh-put change in his cup
(Oh can you play it wi-with the other guitar)
Weatherman
(I like this one [?])
What's that weirdo with the fucking kazoo?
Ay
Sharks in the dunk tank, vipers in the garden
Locusts stole the groceries out the local Farmer's Market
All God's critters hold positions
Some are violent, some are victims
Each alive is an equal and vital piston I support
So when the piranhas honor New York
My daddy long legs dangled and mangled for sport
And while I bring in every dink in the kingdom with open wings
It all boils down to them shit-soaked pigs
The pigs (what), the pigs (what), the dregs of what y'all aim for
The gluttonous muddy stomachs under the pudgy cakehole
Two-track braniac using the food and payroll
To chew up and consume every cookie, crumb, and peso
And place a cloven hoof on the lucrative when convenient
As the bourbon-odor smokers' coughs smolder off the Cohiba
If Noah had the benefit of hindsight on his ship
He could've snatched two unicorns and left behind the motherfucking...
Pigs!
God damn... pigs!
Potbelly... pigs!
Punch-drunk... pigs!
Take money, money... pigs!
Loudmouth... pigs!
Wide load... pigs!
Let's make a deal...
When all the wolves in woolly wigs
Have huffed, and puffed, and blew the bricks
The skulls of Brooklyn's cruelest pigs
Will rain on Fulton's newest kicks
As mulish swine of all surrounding counties sniff the gruesomeness
We pass around the pineapples and pull the pins in unison
I will gladly feed you to the breed who wants you sacrificed
No pagan or sacrilege, just bacon for scavengers
I will gladly seat you with the chickens, not the passengers
Hopefully the crack in his armor spreads to his avarice
Never that, Wilburs multiply quicker than tribbles
And hunt their truffles in fistfuls, but it was all bells and whistles
Bougie this and Bougie that...
War pig or pussy cat...
Glitzy to the pork ribs, had to gold-leaf the booby traps
Powder-pink, double-breasted, mess of mud and money
Waddle off the fire to make his stubborn tummy wroggle
And while I don't really know the working details of your tribes
I know that that's one ugly fucking tie
Asshole...
Pigs!
God damn... pigs!
Potbelly... pigs!
Punch-drunk... pigs!
Take money, money... pigs!
Loudmouth... pigs!
Wide load... pigs!
Let's make a deal...
Apple in his mouth, Maraschino eyes
Party like the butcher boy's cleaver is alive
I mosey into sixteen hours of smoke in the misty winter
To see the county fair's blue ribbon winner as dinner
Then dance until the sun has kissed your blisters in the morning
As the misery was dormant and divvied in crispy portions
Corporates want to lure him in and whore him. Or does he whore the corparates to expand the more important forums for him
Push the mortar pestle past the ordinary orchard
When the frilly border's faded is the product mine or yours, pig?
Mine, plus I toss a token where I go:
Directly to the worms who shovel shit and yellow snow
This little piggy went to the market with a target
And will subsequently know the armor-piercing forks of farmers
Final words for the finer birds taking notes:
I dig a chick in pig tails, "That's all Folks!"
Pigs!
God damn... pigs!
Potbelly... pigs!
Punch-drunk... pigs!
Take money, money... pigs!
Loudmouth... pigs!
Wide load... pigs!
Let's make a deal...
