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NY Electric
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Drunk with a Bazooka coming soon
dr dre radiohead dj premier j dilla madlib rjd2 battlecat elp trent reznor dj krush dj quik jel jr rotem drunk jesus drunken jesus
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Having the fewest wants, I am nearest to the gods.
"I feel guilty when people say I'm the greatest on the scene. What's good or bad doesn't matter to me; what does matter is feeling and not feeling. If only people would take more of a true view and think in terms of feelings. Your name doesn't mean a damn, it's your talents and feelings that matter. You've got to know much more than just the technicalities of notes; you've got to know what goes between the notes." -Jimi Hendrix
Song Info
Genre
Beats Beats General
Charts
Peak #3,205
Peak in subgenre #849
Author
Drunken Jesus Presents:
Rights
2006/2007 drunken jesus productions
Uploaded
January 03, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.7 MB 128 kbps 6:11
Lyrics
[Verse 1] I cut the ropes, breathe fresh puddles of pidgeon blood and smoke Load bazooka, scope the culprit hulks over a broken hookah Got rebel camps with siphons amped to cookie cut the wattage Electric ilk NY raised on b-movie sluts and gossip Condition the bodega rodent moment composure To echo numb and uncommon, dumb monkey pollen My 23's lean over a cobra motor milligram bender Novelty, I tip lids prior to clipping the comradery Check the muck out, When metal maggots burrow in Promised Land vein division I tug my brim down over my stigmatism Lo-pro, Paxil Rose, axel broke and butchered Last catapult standing in a land of coke and hookers It's King Kong potluck, no parking for rickshaw loads of sock puppets and sitcoms Just Krylon pigs bred in a hot boxed wigwam Serotonin deficient teens demonstrate ease in the modern day uzi purchase The foundation of their alacrity makes the umis nervous Me? Oh I check the newest murals to see whose still bombing this fucker and um....respect, find out what it means to me New York, walk blocks with electric ninjas who bark bounce for trunked out whips Like my company Delorian's the shit Skipper's out of happy pills again, he's in the neighbors garbage He's making paper dolls decorated with targets He's labeling the dolls with the names of shitty rap artists Then tearing out the still beating heart from from the loose-leaf carcass I ordered a hovercraft off the back page of an Archie comic Built it in three days to float above snarky comments My gills call the East River rock bottom home with three-eyed guppies and seahorse mutations See New York is ancient Rome basic, basically stone faces My friend jumped off the Empire State Building while I hung with 10th grade head cases Some of them will blossom famous, some of them will blossom base heads but they all rep rivets in the die-cast metal Voltron cadence, what!? [Chorus] NY Electric, catalog, burners, pigs, magnums, crack, bag lady, roach bit, pristine kicks Threading the iris of the needle. just for my people Im'a thread the needlem just for my people Breaker 1-9, 9-11-01 witness, maybe you don't get this [Verse 2] Kill 'em all slow, I was on a serious tree bender with my hands up at a C-Rayz-Walz show Nether-citcuit bacon don't police me anymore, your trained professionals demonstrate 41 shots over par Least common denominator raise truth like Charlie, Willy, and Gramps Raise roofs in a glass Wonkavator, monster maker Operate wild by the company of unturned stones and litter Talk his way out of a sunburn and be home in time for dinner Paid dues since before the days of bad acid and Quaaludes While the boombox talks trash to the richter Stalking awkward with a zip lock on the pill hole Bitter fucker, nothing is free, I'll spend my last dollar on me Put one up for my family, should've made time to thank 'em Put one up for my crew, for recognizing the sanctum Put one up for the socially broke, choked and smokey New York piss hiss bleed dolby, homey [Chorus]
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