The Full Retard - El-P

Got a strain un-contained that could turn parade zombie

Walk with an army on me, stalked by the harm and armor posse

Prolly got me on a radar with a dot

These watching, plotting minions of the lower God scene

Sh*t hawks abound, in the town of bullet dodging

I’m a Rocky, run a hundred mile before my coffee

Sh*tty little sick kid, the Gipper’s hitting for dolo, now I’m rarified

Signal lit verified bossy

F*ck your droid noise, void boys 'noid ploy

Oi oi, I’ll rugby kick the sh*t out your groin boy

Oi vey, the slayers of your harmony porn life

Throat f*ck your lucky day, the flight of a torn kite

Holy smokes, city blown to the bone the death server

Fit a Hertz with a burner, whip to the church of murder sermon

Just a Cassandra too drained to painfully word it further

Future of a gerbil up ass of masochist, that’s my word up

So you should pump this sh*t like they do in the future

Pump this sh*t

In your floating whip system

Pump this sh*t

In the bread line, the prison

Pump this sh*t

From the chip under your wrist skin

Pump this sh*t

(You are so f*cking paranoid)

I am Sam, I am known to go H.A.M., the full retard

Playing taps on a keytar, in the Benz or the Beamer

Either, etherlicious or rebel yelling the theme of

Son of forgotten freedom, rebel ariba riba

Metal and man have melted, settle in to the FEMA, dream a

Your polluted house speaker, leader

Yes indeed a, dawn of the dirt and doom draws nearer

Here’s a mirror mirror to peer, fear grows clearer

Steer a path away from the panic of our era

Pyramided ocular, unlided insignia

Weirder here’s another burner born and big in ya

Sector, rectified and fly sound selector

I’m a f*cking ill, trill, kill at will etc

BK to the basic DNA math measurer

Better leave the lion alone do not pet him

He’ll f*ck start your burp hole, jet in burgundy pleather

Whoa

So you should pump this sh*t like they do in the future

Where harmony and love reign

No longer do we live in a society bent on its own destruction

Children of every race, creed and religion frolic through fields

Of golden dandelions

Pump this sh*t

Lil b*tch, little b*tch

Pump this sh*t

Little b*tch

That’s some Camu sh*t

Those who know lust trust the flow is disgust touch

Producto back rap rush, you’ll notice the lad crush

I’m potent, intact, a black hearted and lunged up

Tarded and touched, plus designer of funk rust

Oh El is back on that sh*t, huh?

That Paincave Kid talk, at the end of the painbow, the permanent stain bop

Maligning my name will holy ark up your squad’s face

Viewers of the divine rage learn to worship the hard way

You get it?

I don’t fade, just float where the poem slays

At home with a roach hazed, alone or with hoes great

I called but got a tone better boat out the borough post haste