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botany - no translator lyrics

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[intro: milo]
is this god talking?
can you translate?
i was told that if god were talking there would be a translator
there is no trans – am i supposed to translate then?
i’ll do my best

[verse 1: milo]
rap music is deep folk
i wear a green cloak like gon, son of ging
i’m conscious of this one thing
i dance on tip-toes like mama coss[?]
i don’t read ram d-ss
fearless sort of boy
in no fear corduroys
peerless otherwise with a pap smear [??]
motherf-cker, rhymes fly over backpacker beats
it’s f-ck a nine-to-five, i’ve disasters to eat

[verse 2: milo]
playing mick jenkins for strangers to watch their faces
i pretend i wash their faces
lost in places, never in translation
there’s never going to be a translation
my skull holds as much as a wicker basket can
stone-faced and staring like alpaca man
i’m on tour in a packed rental van
google image search “dental dam”
then force quit safari
cut a record for two joysticks and an atari
i’m an idiot

[verse 3: milo]
the anonymous corroborator
you don’t understand my functions like car carburetors
oscillating awkward favors
reading sense and reference
don’t have the sense to reference
the second-to-last winner of donald trump’s apprentice
bill gray demeanor
had a nervous breakdown in carl’s jr.’s over carl senior
the fourth man of the ahmad jamal trio
son of mike ladd whipping a chevy geo
of course it was chartreuse
said “milo’s my favorite rapper, he only rhymes harsh truths”
i’m more of a calm bystander
cold eye scanners try to trademark the stage banter
groaning to roll out of a toyota sprinter
never judge an ayatollah by his whiskers
sounds like he wrote his rhymes in whispers
it sounds like he wrote his rhymes in whispers



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