SuperFudge

This is the motherfucking coathanger revolution
Put up your fists and ring the bell for the first round

In the champions corner, spookytooth reigns as the coroner
Speak these words into your skull I’m burrowing

I’ll slice and dice my jurrasic-era thesaurus tongue to better articulate your deathdrum before people start to question why my songs are so complex

Vultures pick my innards from the Emergency Room dumpster and cling to the crisp lungs
Cooked until the kettle called me black
I mean white
(You mean black right?)
Nah I mean white
(Riiiight)

Two lefts don’t make one
So I sculpted my own sanity to succeed where parental programs failed and crashed my hard drive
Um??

I can’t ever understand this motherfucker spooks, man
I can’t ever understand why you’d leave your life in the most transparent of hands
I can’t ever understand how to play ball without a game plan

Two hands clasped and shaking as she’s praying at the table for introverted offspring to accel at all he’s able to and I just might cut this line short
I might scramble your mental eggs until you can afford to call for technical support

(Let me jog your memory!)
Let these elitist hiphop lovers continue not to start feelin me

I hope the twisted end of your disco sticks stay lodged between a rock and my album case so when you need a cane to hold you straight you look to me as the patron saint of patron saints

Fuck you, pay me
The S P -double O Key is amounting aggro to gold bars and sparkly cursive and perserve invasive lettering

Better me

Whether or not you’re ready for the heavy petting weathering

Lather me in leather and shotgun me to the sun
I wanna be the brightest light in a room full of sound so visually upsetting that you feel threatened when I come around

Now put it on the breaks for just a second
You connect your cheetah prints to fake leopards and can’t cut straight to the difference when the saw is warm

I’m fucking delicious
Take two of these and call me if your sickness quickens
Splash acid on your grave
Bone Marrow melter
Blast down the door to your comfortablilty bomb-shelter

Attack without remorse
Remorse without defense
Defend without aggression
Pick apart your strategy until you’re down to clown with getting rid of me

Don’t get me inversed man

I still wanna hear the birds sing
But the choir forgot their voices at home
Still dangling from the noose because they’d rather make 50K a week than operate their loose lips

Passion over Mansions
Lets analyze all outcomes for when your money leaves you stranded

Passion over Mansions
Lets row these paper boats to the sewers
Better off dead than disingenuous

Passion over Mansions