Socks On

Now the beach scene isn’t what it used to be:
No constellation at the belly but they got the machine
To make ‘em come off / come on. Come one, come all!
There’s a transformation of your station involved
Used to have to been born with it, now you take it to go
Meanwhile, the machinist keeps on raking the gold
Got sold the power struggle, purchase the peace
At the end y’all are too broke. You’re spent but you’re free

[Hook - Katrina Dideriksen]
Here's a new trick, Mr. Knox, Socks on Chicks! Chicks on Fox!

Put an egg to your grease hole if the color is green
Don’t even tell me you don’t like it; you have yet to see
The varietals of mount, conveyance, and steed
Tell you, that bacon don’t look rancid to me
Now flee from the Flit cloud: I get loud and spray spittle
Private Snafu picked the clap up in the middle
Of the Orient, brought it home to twist
Came back to what street? To think, I witnessed

[Hook]

I don’t do book reports. I don’t sort the wheat from the chaff
But I’ll discuss the topic of your ignorance if I’m asked
In fast-moving chastisements: your stature is slight
In years as in intellect, subjects you to plight
And hindrance should you want to walk among adults
You protest vociferously: not your fault
You’re like, “Who? I didn’t hear about the rhyme sheet!”
But come on kid, it ain’t that late yet, learn to read

[Hook]