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letra de sun shower (edit club remix) - busdriver

[verse 1]
my head is rolling and full of bread pudding
[?] root and cheer for my root beer floats
in the new year a diffused gear spoke
i wear scuba gear and shoes to your shows
[?] crude remarks for my cutie marks
my cylindrical [?]
will bring a kiddie pool to liverpool
and a sticky stool to your living room
artistic merits form a miscarriage cause they’re transfixed
on harebrained schemes like crip walking on airplane wings
and attempting to get into clare danes’ jeans
we ain’t nothing hip like this onion dip
and all the insecurities underscored my push cord [?]
oven mitt, i’m crushed to bits by a b-tton switch
oh something’s fishy as if she queefed
or being debriefed by the police chief when you’re supposed [?]
are knee-deep in seaweed
where are my icy trinkets, my [?]
albatross [?] sound off [?] cow trough
in the vomitorium i am a tron vessel
a ghetto showman good at the greco-roman arm wrestle
[?] charred metal for an mp3 player
put gun powder in my tea strainer and you get a sun shower

[hook]
there’s no place for you, no place for me under sun showers [x4]

[interlude]
los angeles [x4]

[verse 2]
you treat the poverty line as a limbo stick
like a triple six is on the tanned skull of anna nicole smith’s
toddler son, i’ve got a water gun
to make a salty probe out of a sack of bills
i should be robbing folks but i’m rapping still
i make her body convulse when i’m last on the bill
i treat shows like contracted k!lls
we went from seven steps to lengthy treks
now i’m closely monitored by secret spies
they put detectors in my pizza pies
can a decent guy go to sleep in the sky?
for [?] the cost is doubled
so when i go to venues i’m swashbuckling
shoot a heckler, put my wood in his kisser
i’ve got a good record for a gushy listener
to then fire this overstuffed kiln, i wouldn’t go as far as to co-star in a snuff film
put that hand higher and clutch clouds
but if you’re below par throw crowbars at tough crowds
get your whisker scissored by this ill-tempered wizard
he wears ninja slippers, his nuts hang like a chicken gizzard
there’s a place for you, ain’t no place for me
hence my crazed spree and my lack of pat

[hook]

[interlude]

- busdriver

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