Bleeding Brain Grow Songtext

von MC Paul Barman

[Verse 1]
Lets have a discussion about bussing larval racists
To the ghetto make em' let go their carpal braces
Bronze them
And then mount them to a plaque
So where's the outer city
I believe intercity means black
Did you know that both black women and jewesses both wore wigs
What a cowinkydink
I'll put my hand down their pants and make my pinky stink
I wanna sista not a shiksa
Yes I am from a rinkydink town
Republicrats: they take half step forward, and then they double back
They speak with a gay lilt
They tilted their gray kilt
Spilt on The A.I.D.S Quilt
With the dregs of a keg plus eggy smeg all down the leg
You make my karma puke
You who refuse to disarm a nuke
And keep printing Marmaduke
Anger, like Margaret Sanger sitting on a bloody coathanger
I built a Planned Parenthood out of transparent wood and fiberglass
Cybercast, from the Tigris and Euphrates
To the Khyber Pass
Geronimo!
There's no such thing as anonymo
To the I.R.S-kimo
Things are getting worse
There was laughta afta NAFTA cause it can't be reversed

Little thought in my knot
Ooh you make it hot
Send a puff of steam out the ears
To make the bleeding brain grow

[Verse 2]
Since when is shaved the norm?
I'll take these depraved deformed enslaved conformed
Wedge letter, bed wetter, cuneiform
You call them hirsute
Smoothness: a trivial pursuit
I hope your ova's kosher
Like lox from Nova Scotia
A twist in the bread, pretzel dough model
How much does the challah cost
Grandma worshipped Quetzalcoatl
And gramps made a damn nice lampshade
They stretched his tan flesh our like a Band-Aid
As a feral lad, without the sterile pad, did you feel in peril dad

Roam home to a dome
On the crest of a neighboring hill
Where the chores are all done
Before they're begun
And eclectic nonsense is nil

[Verse 3]
What's that on your beard
A tiny ivory black power fist facial hair comb
I'm building geodesic domes
I'm calling Ric Ocasek holmes
Ma, origami magi roam
Eve, Mika, RZA, Evil JD
Nasir is Osiris and JLive, AZ
Rakim, Cormega, Cage, Mr. O.C
I'm anomie I, mon ami
It's abundantly clear
That there's profundity here
It tickled Pickle Clowns and comics
When I liberated one of those fancy, meshy, office chairs
And called it "Trickle Down Ergonomics"

I can rhyme anything
Like a palindrome or morse code
To make the bleeding brain grow