[Red the Supergiant] Yo Little rock spinning, big shots grinning Trick plots, tight knots, ain't got a tittle of a winning Cold hands plead cold shoulders We all bleed And smolder slowly Peeps sure get holy war to pocket guacamole Boldly claim our kings, who sings for the lowly? Land of the roly polys Of thee I sing Heat blocks, sling rocks, so you can cop some bling If your left or right wing you ain't got wings You're only getting lesser if you halve things Need mass appeal not mass appeal Basking in masked tasks asking if it's real In case I don't see you, welcome to the Truman show Some say he fronts dark like a Newman-O What's wrong with a different photon? When will the color blind lead the blind, when we're gone Ain't that some shit Drool Ain't that some spit? But you'll never catch him snoozing Beat bruising till he's a poster child like Drew Struzan It's not for they're amusement Talking bout a monkey suit Talking bout the dung he threw Bud, he bust a bummy sleuth Buddy not a buddy oops When will it end? When we stop making pretend
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