Babies With Guns Lyrics - Singles - Aesop Rock

radio, check check, video, check check 

this is how the city folk and mole people connect 

somebody warp the message right i'll pass it to the next 

now the perforated county's making you upset 

harvest all brand x clark kents to worm pool 

carbon heart 

buried his nozzle in fossil marker art 

pardon 

cadaver had a legitimate pulse 

and littered volts are with the village 

where the skittish pigeons molt 

bastard poacher gasped 

with the pigeon with lazarus billy goat whiskers 

he rose to see salt in the open blisters but 

blind anarchy slips through the cracks, 

see naked martyrs with Bubblicious on fishing rods 

itching to pull it back 

with that organic invention incubated to hatch 

some can try to make it fructose on paper now 

allow the details later and the crews will taper out 

of wooly mayors ousts? 

through piggy jammy happy shooting at the bladed mouth 

bazooka tooths who keep the paper route 

with janky funds and favors 

cradled by twelve empty Zelda heart containers 

man, it's freezing in this brick bitch 

winter forever 

like Punxsutawney Phil down with his four furry wrists severed 

i walk face first through the sex, guns, and church 

with wild things that make Maurice Syndek question his early works 

but no hostages no promises 

out the claw of corporate cogs and sprockets, 

now clogs off gromits 

running from a rabid ring wraith click, basilisk, serpentine 

in and out of traffic jam and murder scenes 

scrub blood off the AF1 fifty two pick up first degree 

some toddler's smuggled tommy guns and crack into the nurseries 

dogg, there's a fucking baby at the door asking for wallets 

and those ain't twin beenie babies inside his pockets 

2010 sonograms show the magnums form directly off the fetus 

evolution for the young killer convenience 

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radio, check check, video, check check 

this is how the city folk and mole people connect 

somebody warp the message right, i'll pass it to the next 

now the perforated county's making you upset 

magazine, check check, paper route, check check 

this is how the hermit inc. and busy bee connect 

somebody's losing track of their flesh and blood in arrests 

polka dotted landscapes what did you expect? 

now-a-days even the babies got guns 

diaper snipers having clock-tower fun 

misplace the bottle might catch a bad one 

have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young 

Photos 

hold up 

if the jesus piece around your neck is bigger than your pistol 

it makes homicide okie-dokie and your god will forgive you 

just show the saints at heaven's gate you should be on the list 

i hear overlooks manslaughter for a tattooed crucifix 

twisty, fidgety, contradicting 

wild animal shit bleed off the slide of born doctor? 

to mister turnable mind bought? 

somewhere to laminate dry bones in cool water and ease medulla 

after you thumb sucking diaper chains 

give birth and shoot the school up 

i duel, too, but only to exploit no-brainers 

teenager beef past alligator teeth 

and extra-curricular flagpole scrappin' 

amongst tadpoles that have yellow backbones 

team mechanism brought airborne shrapnel scraps to hassle captain 

by the itchy index of an umbilically garped fraggle baby 

fragile, maybe, ya think 

chop shop and a misled maladjusty crusty lock box 

hiding clips that light the sky in seconds 

like dueling communal hopscotch gives them leverage 

cut 'em with mortars 

while i mumble in the immortal slang of Mush Mouth 

for the anti-lead nirvana 

i used to think i'd get hit by a bus or something dumb and dumber 

now the bus is slugs plugged by the newest kiddie thug wonder 

suffered through kingsley 

rep a wide pride dosage 

for tomorrow the holsters are bound to outnumber the roaches 

not a coach, but that'll even jolt the immobile 

when global terrorism's all the rage your folk get smoked local 

block[head], if you need me, i had to bounce to d.c. 

to bullet-proof mom's flower garden 

before the war cheats me 

if i'm not back in a week tell the crew i said "peace, and lay low" 

strains don't vacate slow 

radio, check check, video, check check 

this is how the city folk and mole people connect 

somebody warp the message right, i'll pass it to the next 

now the perforated county's making you upset 

magazine, check check, news flash, check check 

this is how the hermit inc. and busy bee connect 

somebody's losing track of their flesh and blood in arrests 

polka dotted landscapes what did you expect? 

now-a-days even the babies got guns 

diaper snipers having clock-tower fun 

misplace the bottle might catch a bad one 

have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young 

aboard the battleship, gray sky, the day i 

got the phone call Jam Master Jay died 

so, no, i'll probably never write another daylight 

because the stingers tend to cling more than a portable hay rides 

it adds up when a pioneer fall 

in comparison to your ninety-nine bottles of beer wall 

there's banana peels in your hamster wheels 

hand cannons in your shoebox, please 

mine's got adidas, rest in peace... get at me.