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    Watsky / Lyrics

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    "Exquisite Corpse" Lyrics

    Watsky feat. Dumbfoundead, Grieves, Adam Vida, Wax, Rafael Casal, Daveed Diggs and Chinaka Hodge

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    Have you ever seen a corpse?
    How about an exquisite one?
    Think about Frankenstein's monster
    Now think about fun
    You're getting it, good!
    Johnny starts with a leg. I sew on an arm. Then you lend a hand
    We each add our piece
    Now, what kind of beast have we made?
    Let's find out!

    I woke up Sunday to a bloodshot sky
    Robot overlords goose step by
    Shoulda listened when we had the juice to try
    And Bill the Science Guy told us that "the end is nigh!"
    Lately it's been getting harder to
    Survive, since the Hive started to
    Ban American refugees from being a damn part of the
    People's Republic of Antarctica
    A bum begged me for a bill he could borrow
    Babbling some shit about "there's still a tomorrow"
    He said that "legend has it, there's still a Baja Grill and a Sbarro
    At the top of Mount Kilimanjaro"
    And so desperate, I set off from the deserts out in Portland
    Until my thirsty horse collapsed in the scorched sand
    I promised to myself heart and soul
    I'd crawl across this dead world for those garlic rolls

    Yo, kid, let go of the dead horse
    Stop crying, need a ride? Hop in my red Porsche
    Eat something homie, you look bony and frail
    Now why the hell would you take the Oregon Trail?
    Remember back in grade school, that stupid computer game?
    You shoulda known better, now there's no one but you to blame
    Dying of dysentery, don't climb to the enemy
    I'ma take you underground where the hive resistance be
    Apparently a colony of people are out there
    A garden full of veggies, even garlic they sprout there
    Leader General Bieber who be running shit down there
    Found a way to end the drought, bring out the swimwear
    Soon as we pulled up we heard drilling noises
    Children started dancing, even grown folk joined in
    Like a hydrant in the Bronx, water shot up in the air
    But was boiling and as hot as solar flares

    Ooh wee, ain't that a bitch?
    Nobody believed it til the first wave hit
    The ground started shaking and the sky went red
    (Mayday! Atlanta's been lost, Justin Bieber is dead)
    No! God damn, another one down
    Colonies of people living under the ground
    Rallied against the clowns, a resistance was born
    They fight for mankind and the existence of porn (let's go!)
    Back on the surface life eaters
    Avoiding wild packs of North American beavers
    Creepers and face feeders
    Fearing the great reaper
    You're either gonna get eaten or beat with a pay meter
    This is real shit homie, dog eat dog
    More like robot clown eats man and whole squad
    Graffiti on the wall says "there is no god"
    But there is still homemade vodka, and that's cool

    Homemade vodka, pour a shot up then I swill it
    I'm the only person left who remembers how to distill it
    It's the most popular product in the underground economy
    So I'm the most popular person in my underground colony
    All the resistance leaders they throw shots down
    In my bar after they fight the robot clowns
    As of late they've been stressed and depressed
    'Cause the chances of us winning are becoming less and less
    We lost the captain of the human army
    Morale is really low and a lot of people are starving
    I'm still wondering how this all happened
    Is this even real or am I just on acid?
    The clowns are advancing down
    I use the word "down" 'cause they're coming underground
    Wait—what's that sound? It's kinda loud
    Holy shit! There they are right now!

    Calm down soldier, this is no time to be a fink
    We can beat these clowns, okay, we just need to think
    I've lost ten men this week, I can't sleep a wink
    But this the last place on earth a guy can get a decent drink
    So darned if we lose this bar to those useless zombie bastards
    I'd rather starve than be boozeless
    So I put barbed wire slabs on the fences
    That should buy us some time to plan our defenses
    Pick up the chairs and trash cans off the floor
    Stack 'em up on the front door to jam up the entrance
    Ain't got grenades but we still might be saved
    I just found fifty diet coke cans and some breath mints
    Fill the trash cans to the brim with the cola
    When the robots break in, toss the mints in the soda
    See the blast won't hurt 'em but it'll get 'em wet certainly
    It'll mess up their wiring and disrupt their circuitry
    If it don't work though, my next plan cannot fail
    We drink the vodka—shot after shot til we're too drunk to feel pain
    Spark up a flame and turn the bottles that remain into Molotov cocktails
    I've had it with you clowns, I've reached my limit
    You may have killed my captain, but I'm the lieutenant
    And I won't let you terrorize us, wait just a minute
    That ain't no robot zombie, man, what the hell is it?!

    Adam! Ah! I didn't mean to scare ya
    Dude, that's not a robot, it's just Iggy Azalea
    Musta hid up in the bar to learn about who we are
    Then report back to the captain of the folks attackin' my favorite rap stars
    Oh shit, quick! Hit her with some fuckin' duck-tape
    She came to sing-rap & give us all some undercut fades
    Lo-fi beats transmittin' telepathic AutoTune
    Help! She's inside my head and I don't think I am immune
    Been repo-d, I think I'm in deep I am weeping at the seams
    Forfeiting my dreams of keepin' the streets G code
    Only way to outrun it is doublin' up on the track
    Any and everyone get up and meddle mean it
    Just puttin' the pedal into it
    Now we taking over the tempo and tunin' it
    Never gone let a lesser lemon ruin it, so I'm inducing it
    Doomin' 'em all, I'm undoin' it, deuces I'm dippin'
    Who comin' with the kid? I'm out
    Headed to the dojo, Diggs got pistols hidden in his fro though
    These robots think we're bitch, Diggs, gimme some loko
    And let me borrow your Jefferson robe bro, I'm goin' postal
    Bay boys 'bout to put this barrel into some fuckin' blowholes

    Whoa whoa whoa, hold up cash
    You see I'm trimming my mustache up
    I heard all these newly brainwashed rap chicks are really down to fuck
    I comb the pistols out the fro and they're sitting on the table
    And there's two cheesesteaks out in a fully gassed up LeSabre
    I'm ready to ride on these haters, let's go
    But you better drive 'cause you already know
    That apocalypse or not when I'm behind the wheel my black ass is sure
    Enough gonna get stopped
    And we ain't got the time and the tags are expired
    You know how it is, I am really not trying to die today, by cop or by a geek robot
    Whoa, stop, lemme bottle up this kombucha I've been brewing on the back porch
    Grab the backpack out the closet, it's got all of our passports
    I've been planning this for a minute, seen the writing on the walls
    If we survive and find a civilization they've got to know who we are
    First we swoop us Chinaka in case we need some muscle
    Or some reason, or anything other than our indiscriminate hustle
    Then we roll through the hood real slow bumping something all of these monsters know
    Like a Watsky song? Lo and behold, they'll follow our car wherever we go
    Let's lead 'em out to Napa and let 'em gentrify that bitch up
    Start the car—no, homie—we are not stopping for any swishers
    Or a McFlurry, blood there's no time for that shit
    Hold up, there go Nak right there, pull over
    Ayo Nak, Ayo Nak, get in the car!

    Ay Raf get back seat
    Make room for ya fam, friends
    I'll give you this McShake and the end of my Hansen
    Now what the fuck you talking it's the end of the world?
    I been on Pinterest tending to the end of my curls
    I mean the sky is always purple, people running on vapors
    I mean the Tribune been gone, I ain't gon read it in the papers
    Nothing's all that different, been the same for black women
    When apocalyptic breakfast follows revelation dinners
    The lights been out, the water smelling of flint
    Exquisite corpses laying where the bodies had been
    No bombs over Baghdad, just drones with grenades
    When life gives us citrus we learn to drop Lemonade
    So okay fellas shall we get in formation?
    Bump some pied piper R up out the trunk this scraper
    Do the end of the world styling in our fitteds and gators
    Lure these stupid mufuckas on a goose chase
    Use whatever's already up in my suitcase
    I got a whole jones for this open road
    And my flow so cold we don't need AC
    I popped fo' no doze, I'll read this formal prose
    Bet you Butler knows how to make us free
    A Lauren Olamina in Trumped up world
    A black magic woman still being called girl
    But the only constant is change holmes
    So let's get the supplies and leave up out our bay homes
    Got the earthquake kit and six gallons of gas
    Got Diggs in the driver and Raf in the back
    Got this passenger seat and the last of these sweets
    Go north Daveed, just gun it til wine country
    Do it moving fluid like turfin with iDummy
    It's the bay moves we learned as natives gon keep us safe
    It's the forty water water and an instrumental tape, let's go
    They'll get tired behind us
    I mean half of 'em hybrid but most of them wind-ups
    We got nothing but power we got nothing but time
    I got Kwudi's new beats and Music of My Mind
    Nothing left in Napa but the scent of the grapes
    No palate-cleansing tapas for discriminate taste
    Nothing left in Calistoga but one popped bubble
    We got just two dudes and just one Nak, trouble
    Like how the hell we repopulate humanity
    The two of y'all and me that's like actual insanity
    Like eww, that's really gross guys
    It's like, not Diggs, and not Rafa
    Not nobody else, just doing it styling in wine country with nothing else

    Red red wine, I don't want to die!
    I hum under my breath as I fight death in the quiet depths of the bunker
    I was confounded when I came to after Dumbfoundead
    Brought me to the battered base underground where we hunkered down the summer
    But then winter came and the flame that we tended to flickered to nothing
    And the few of us living resorted to burning cadavers like tinder and lumber
    We bickered bitterly and our wickedness hit a peak in our hunger
    Sickened we hunted each other
    Pickpocketed the weak and we plundered
    A visitor from the surface stole a garlic roll from Dave and Busters
    And I butchered the buster in his sleep just to lick his fingers for butter
    But it kind of gave me indigestion I confess and the pipes ruptured from my dung
    Lungs punctured when Dumb stuck me with the sharped end of my plunger
    Now it's me and Grieves in a shallow grave
    Next to J. Biebs and Azalea's pale humongous butt
    That I rest my head upon for my perpetual slumber
    We frail and wretched kvetch and wail
    It's curtains, my days are numbered
    And I'm numb to pain, yet one remaining certainty gives me comfort
    I made a living yelling my opinions loudly
    Thinking I might matter if I drew a crowd, see
    Now, my lily cheek on Iggy's chilly cheeks I finally see the future will be fine
    Without me
    Nothing is entitled to be mine
    I'm a token of a broken time
    And maybe there's survivors on the surface in LeSabres working on
    Tomorrow sipping red, red wine
    This song was submitted on October 16th, 2016.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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