clipping. - brian lyrics
[verse 1: daveed diggs]
urban renewal is a rabbit hole of wiki links
and one pill makes you smaller
the other one’s a bullet, point taken, pull it
aim it at he face at twenty paces
and you’ll probably hit a bystander
overpopulation is a b-tch, ain’t it?
and a b-tch bad, and a bad b-tch the type
to make you bust fast, b-tch keep bussin’ at them
for they bus p-ss, victims of rapid transit police on bus ads
a movie will be made about his life
and where the life is but a knife of calico
the impulse always is to weaponize
so weapons, eyes, and targets fixed
no contacts, no context, texts to his mom’s just rang out
the lexicon’s expanding at a rapid pace
hashtags on the twitter, hotspots on hot blocks
still got them hot pockets on lockup in the freezer
half as cold as the demeanor
half as coded as the overloaded speakers bumping g sh-t
[drum interlude: brian chippendale]
[verse 2: daveed diggs]
“your sp-ce is narrow,” said the robber to the bank
before he robbed the motherf-cker blind
don’t underestimate the underestimated
they rest esteemed on beds of all your daughter’s friendship bracelets
she’s having dreams of dancing in the dark with darker faces
what a waste, she water-wade and welcome to the city
you chose while most could not escape it
the escapades are consequential when the national order is disturbed
it’s only right the lions gonna fight back and it might smack
at that primitive imitation arranged by illiterates
but literally who gives a sh-t? sh-t!
grabbin’ the bull by the french h-rns and heralding a new day is played out
kid with a high top fade, ain’t no way he gonna be outdid
and if it’s like this and that then listen up
enter a new commissioner with a mission to
get you the f-ck up out his mistletoe, he leave a kiss like death
tuck up your deuce and go, just watch him go
[drum interlude: brian chippendale]
[verse 3: daveed diggs]
this is the bitter taste of disconnect
don’t recognize the intellect and don’t be on the internet
so gangsta sh-t becomes an empty threat
unless you live it to the very best to leave it with mean empty nest syndrome
and the empty nest of stomach makes a tempting test
but will or won’t you ski mask on this store run
more guns up, more funds, morphine, more fiends
more deplorable news for camera crews to shoot more scenes and they morphing
black or white, the paper chase, the gl-ssy pipe, the needle and the haystack made of needles
the refracted light of self-reflecting’s worse
short and squat, gravity, rough from overtouching buff
from holding up the mantlepiece for you to place your tchochkes on
mementos of your visit to where the men go ignant
and women catch her trickin’, and no one tripping but you
so get your f-ck on, or stay and get your f-ck on
no one really gives a f-ck
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