Busdriver - Jhelli Beam Split Seconds (Between Nannies and Swamis)

Lyrics

The top-hatted Abrahams are shoveling the raisin brand
In eyeballs their bi-laws are leaping off the laser scan
Into your genotype telling you to deep throat pipe
If you don’t do it, well
These hoes might
The red carpenter’s quota fills to deficited motor skills
Of on-lookers raw sugars register at overkill
Within your colon wall so a candies bowling ball
You squeeze out at the open call
But what if you could
Inundate the open hearing with your shrewd barbs
That perforates the sloganeering on the cue cards
Would you prize that fine cut or just apply blush
As besquelched sea-kelp nibbling on pie crust
The job offers for Albany’s count Dracula
And calorie-count spatula kitchen staff
Are on the lithograph
Of your Calvin Klein alkaline-enriched gonads
Should I kiss you ass or drown you
In the saffron soy dip
But my Zaxxon joy stick pokes at my
Glitter spackled tight jump suit
Mr. Applewhite grunt pukes
From the candle light-drunk seldom sung sooth
But you’re the fresh-faced unknown
With sophomoric gags and wash board abs
Finding cinaplex waste blood stones
Can I be OG Mud Bone?
Go free and unplug the phone

Nannies or swamis undefeated
Screaming, “Pansy commies! Love it or leave it”
Or pumping anti-bodies in the VP’d cleavage
They split it, split it…

Cool points trump those DIY
Numerics
Be yourself, but I’m too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds…

The 1-800-dial a guilt trip
Stamped on my African name book
Proves that behind the cumulous blue
There’s as humorous a stew as
Dane Cook’s table read so I yank butch’s anal beads
Out of the clenched bum of PG rated test runs
Sniffing You Tube viewership up deviated septum’s
Between two choose your pick:
Rule Zimbabwe or
Improved computer becoming your new Yahweh
Boo-hoo loser bitch your dopes in the blood and stole
Because most rap careers mirror stints as drug mules
But are you that pickaninny, black-faced Ren & Stympy
Our on-screen time is split 50/50
But I’ve only drawn guns
On construction paper with pastel sticks
And I’m a left of center loyalist
Who’s selling bean pies with a bad sales pitch
This sex offender’s foil’s fixed in utero
On my own dumb-ass self
Yeah I pimp super ho
Whom is me
They liken Driver to Fish Bone
Have fire and brimstone misers disowned
But I’m not sure
Y’all are too NAACP or NWA on GP
But I straddle the fence every nano sec
Cancelled checks line the uteral wall of my music hall

Cool points trump those DIY
numerics
Be yourself, but I’m too embarrassed
You got to be you
So that famed crook playbook and diary diarrhea split seconds
Split seconds, they split seconds, split seconds…