Worlds To Run

Busdriver

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    [milo]
    This slack-jaw mealy-mouth
    I mumble when I'm 'round the house
    I'm trying not to do no chores today
    Crying in my underwear
    I lost my sense of wonder, there
    No, I'm not Milan Kundera
    Though this lightness is unbearable
    The feeling is indelible
    I'm wishing I could teleport somewhere
    Transmolecularize through the secular eye
    I remember when Vegeta stomped Bardock's neck in
    Two prayer hands to the heavens, good Lord, bless Him
    I was a broke slob watching Ghost Dog writing Post Hoc
    If I could muster just one good throat chop
    And honor my shidoshi, 'cause 'dim mak' means 'death touch'
    I been Spock, I been clutch
    In thin socks, I'm butthurt
    Impervious pervert with niggerish fervour
    Crashing Linux server
    Who didn't even change his laundry over
    Who needs to buy toilet paper
    Indie rapper, sorta faker
    'Cuz I couldn't afford a mortgage or a Studebaker
    'Cuz I couldn't afford a mortgage or a Studebaker

    [Anderson.paak]
    When you're deep in the raw
    Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
    There's only so much truth you can keep in your bowl
    Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

    [Busdriver]
    Overspoke my piece
    I'm known in the streets
    When you're deep in the raw
    There's only so much truth you can keep in your jaw
    (So what you saying?)
    I can run the world from my mama's house
    I can run the world from my mama's house
    I can run the world from my mama's house
    I can run the world

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    When you deep in the raw
    There's only so much truth you can keep in your jaw
    'Till it bleeds through the wall

    Every song responds to a threat
    Every laundered dollar is wet
    But if a mom’s like a song torn breath
    But as long as I can ponder the depth
    And the king sorta stinks of lunacy
    I roam the rinks in sync with the jinx
    That are having me sink the moon and the sea
    Bankers clink drinks as they uplink to the sphinx's coonery
    I'm on the brink, I could fill my sink with the king's jewelry
    Yeah, who is he? Driver. Lion from a dead world
    Sole practitioner of his customs and know the RPM of your head twirl
    Driver old as fuck
    My daughter old enough to vote
    Rap songs blowing up on the coast
    Loyal subjects rolling up that smoke
    As I dictate terms from an ensnarled perch
    Yeah, and Leimert Park is Winterfell
    Rumors I learn to Splinter Cell and pitches sale from Mike's Citadel
    Exact an explicit Hell
    Empty the fire and sway
    My music on Pirate's Bay as my elusive alliances fray
    I collude with a silent clay and infuse a vibrant day
    With a soothing eye in decay -- putting food on the dining tray
    Yeah, I can do this my way
    Welcome home

    [Anderson.paak]
    When you're deep in the raw
    Everybody wants to get a piece of your heart
    There's only so much truth you can keep in your bowl
    Speak your piece, but words are too harsh

    [Busdriver]
    When I was a younger man
    I could feel the entire world
    But now that I'm older

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