Tekst:
El P Fantastic Damage

(now the evening has come to a close and I've had my last dance with you so on to the empty streets with me and it might be my last chance with you so

(now the evening has come to a close and I've had my last dance with you so on to the empty streets with me and it might be my last chance with you so

One two Get behind the walls of new Roma, wanna buy the farm But the land's not yours to own? Who owns Police? Who holds floor grease on a sandy beach

(Burrrrp) Oh, yeah, oh, you son of a bitches (It gets so fuckin' crabby in this booth, man) (It's like 90 degrees in here) (Smells like cigarettes in

[El-P] I became toxic allotted in badly shaded cement fuselages of juvenile non-approval and loosely smoker's school cut abandonment Where great expected

(feat. Cage, CamuTao) [El-P: official] Yo, I touch with rusted clutch, then spun out of the dust and careen into the temples of automated destruct nanotech

(Don't look now, we're coming..........) I plug the ladies in Mum kept the babies in Do right Do right Do right Do right Do right [x3] I plug the ladies

it sounded more confusing than that My priority was found under the arm of an economy-sized mousetrap I dedicate this to Matt Doo (thank you) My name is El-P

retton dismount Spin out of control to doctor basics Bladed secada wings offer awkward facelift Leak laser to fade shit [El-P] I splash commoner fragments