Megaton B-Boy 2000

Prince Paul, Dan the Automator, El-P

[Intro: El-P]
One, two
Yo

[Verse 1]
I drop a bucket of sexy intellect piss mongoloid
Survive driven heated millenial text mostly
Closer to chemical icon warchest
Shipwrecked incredible hybrid malform mechanism
And let the sycophants eat the jism
Stuck between butt-naked pre-military draft
Schizophonetic we're all gonna burn deer hunter sentiment
Infomercial commodity Mason-approved killer cortizone method dialect from infected rhyme tenement
Most motherfuckers just civily suck a burrito from a shit box anyway
Step up to little Johnny thus survive mega-retarded
Animals from plastic bubble-dome sulfur oxide
A Hanley hospital escapee
If you haven't been raped lately
Goddamn I shit on it
After the acidic high colonic epoxy
We dreams dirty words like drones to the hell-out pervs
From the automated needles fed bedlam catatonic tirades
To the sucker bitch lymph nodes corroding
I don't laugh
Emasculated remainders have died ambiguously gay
Siegfried and Roy intern class mean death jokes
They bring 'em to the fucking gimp festival
Conformity's for the castrati court formula art
Yo, fuck the afterthoughts where they start

[Verse 2]
The children get their gift from the don't-give-em-shit tree
The worlds too delineated from a bitch-force community
My shit in a uncommunicible silent snuff film images work consistently
Dumb shit conniption El-P activate
Megaton B-Boy battle sucker bitch remedial flaccid bone piece metal track catalyst
Dust at the scrimmages
Flavor collectible faggot MC cop-em' out of miniature
Flame shot
Vocal from a tip dog episode sub-local robot bipartisan codpiece programmable shang knee elbow
The latter half of the century hard-rockin'
Sounds retarded, doesn't it?
I could say eat a dick cookie to turn my back on you
Casually comfortable with seven minutes of refreshing relax into missionary positionin'
Cap the metal clause and a life glistening
Who'll rob Chris for controlled substance for sustenance quota?
Cavity creep incorporated savagery lesson funk motto
Pushing (???) aroma
Ingested like the flesh of Christ extra nice sacrament matter device
Tested and approved loose and forefinger bell-ringer
Never say the same shit twice
Period!

[Verse 3]
I am the
Lord of the fly-by
Shit designer Tesla and Einstein hybrid
Bored of the monotonous crime skits and pseudo keep it real independent fine print
You're fuckin' with a hot climate
I approach as a man with mechanical mandibles
Extended in a come scrap with a digital linguist position
Faded out from the fact that a skull piece and a prom of display from the feminine drum kit's affliction
Man, listen
Actual fact is my brain bubble that's soaked in the millenial paranoid
Cloak of misty eye just maimed another bitchy quadrapeligic metaphor fairy
With math ten and a halftime scary
I'm riding out soul fishing cloud-killing field fodder
Fucked in the brainstem cadet of proletarian hemmorage modern steam
The sick is in the Pol-Pottery
Who kept the deco shards of the recipients to the snot box bombardment barrage
For what it's worth the part is the human compartment of psycho arson collage

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