Ahistorical - you think this shit just dropped right out of the sky My analysis: it's time to harvest the crust from your eyes To surge and refine, to rage and define ourselves against your line So sorry friend but you must resign You want to figure it out we'll throw down, we'll throw down Wou want to figure it out well throw down your bulldog front Bold bold mouthtalking not so bold now that you've eaten your own Lips flecked, mouthspecked you strip the skin right off of the bone And I would never say you act without precision or care, But it's all attention to armor, to the armor you wear so well Let's knock and check to see if there's somebody home
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