[Verse 1: Scroobius Pip]
When it's cold, we bite the top of our zips
Pull it up with our teeth 'til it covers our lips
Exhale, central heating for the weather beaten
No feet are beating this street in to stand by us like Wil Wheaton
Walking these streets with that distant stare
No one likes us but we don't care
Maybe our kind don't fit round here
Our minds find conflict round here
See we choose to cruise a route that ain't paved with gold
So our shoes don't slip they stick and grip this road
Our tools are ink slicks that we engrave and mould
For an end goal you maybe can't spend or fold
We won't settle for unsought careers
Or forty years of salty tears
Like a battered up mix-tape with a long faded label
When I'm old and decaying I'll be decaying and able
[Hook x2]
If the bad times are coming, let 'em come
Let the death drum break the slump
Before the once young braves succumb
The fickle flicker of desire expires
If the bad times are coming let 'em come, let 'em come
[Verse 2: Sage Francis]
Quality home life, living a lie now
Take it to the road certain victims would lie down
Haunting images I witnessed in my town
Are floating through the night with a knife and a white gown
Gotta dig a bigger hole
But you can never climb out, just burrow and burrow
And you could never climb out
Just keep keep digging
And watch the clock
Because once you stop, the meter's ticking
[Verse 3: Metermaids]
Ain't Safe round these parts
All strange shapes
Aim straight
War paint on the game face
Something like the same taste
Match sticks and plastic
We say grace for the black eyes and bad shit
Magic in the air
Clear the smoke
Count the dead
Butchers block
Hit em with the pound of flesh
Pay em and then count your debts
Found success, with these brown liqour beauties and the sound of sex
Save the strong
Drown the rest
Momma's gotta make sure these mouths are fed
When Poppa comes through he's gonna pound some heads
Temper Temper
This is a fist, rip this town to shreds
Pound the meds
Didn't bother knocking
Picked the lock
Left the sink sitting on cinder blocks
Kick rocks
Ain't no reason to ask why
Trust me son, we know all about the bad times
[Hook x2]
If the bad times are coming, let 'em come
Let the death drum break the slump
Before the once young braves succumb
The fickle flicker of desire expires
If the bad times are coming let 'em come, let 'em come
[Verse 4: Sage Francis]
You're suspect, sus this out
Set off my spider sense and I fumigate the house
Remember that spot, your old haunt
Where you caught wanderlust when your lust wandered and you got caught
I fought for your honor and I lost
My friends said I bet on the wrong horse
I've got a gambling habit that I just can't quit
Your therapist wants to help you understand it
What a guy
What a lie
What am I? Chopped liver?
Serve me up raw at your pot luck dinner
Watch your physical size materialize
A lost soul with no spritual guide
You've got a home with the energy that i don't trust
Enter the living room and light bulbs bust
Wipe old dust from the banister
I'm an amateur ghost buster holding an empty canister
I managed my way through your labrynth
Discovered a dungeon full of captives
Your tounge is a cactus
Your dry mouth a desert
Breathing in all that hot air made my chest hurt
Desperate flirt, your words are tumbleweeds
You network with graverobbers, my plot's under seige
It's been so long since i've seen the sun
I'mma greet it with the warmest of welcomes
[Hook x3]
If the bad times are coming, let 'em come
Let the death drum break the slump
Before the once young braves succumb
The fickle flicker of desire expires
If the bad times are coming let 'em come, let 'em come
Coming let 'em come, let 'em come [x6]
Coming let 'em
Coming let 'em
Coming let 'em come
[Verse 5: Cecil Otter]
So let em come
And let em go
We'll let em know that we grow from our losses
We'll let em show up and choke on a plot twist
We ain't feeling like some coat rack for crosses
Ain't living like some door mats or prophets
Ain't reading any road maps regardless
And we ain't eating out of any palm any time soon
No, we'll make our way down those stresses
So you take the maps
We'll take the risk
We'll make a path out of ash and be quick to the draw
The rickshaw's armed and able
Quicker than your laws, we'll be quicker that your guardian angels
And we're thankful
For this plate full of shit we were given by the ladle
So if the bad times are gonna come, good let em
We'll make sure to make room at the dinner table
Let Em Come Redux was written by The Metermaids & Cecil Otter & Sage Francis & Scroobius Pip.
Let Em Come Redux was produced by Cecil Otter.