Busdriver - Ministry of the Torture Couch lyrics

[Intro: Busdriver] I just really wanted to be included in the conversation My n***a, let me give you my thoughts on the matter [Verse 1] My introduction at the party was "Who be that?" With small talk littering conversation with b**by traps Chewing fat with political theorists busy reviewing stats They're going home to n***as committing unruly acts But not getting fitted for no Uzi straps Just keeping the hoodie mac and the doobie wrapped And never reflecting on how we truly act They're screaming out that sh** Until the motherf**ing tubing cracks Cause it feels like a military coup in fact But had to bring Paul Mooney back to give y'all the point of view Of a threatening black man, cause these legislators get paid for the Booty claps so I gotta bring the kufi back [Hook x2] So take a breath, take a step, take a leap I'ma take these motherf**ers straight up out their seats check Reach for the sun, I shoot from the hip with teeth in my gun [Post-Hook] Remember when we were radicals out there fanning them flames Rooting out injustices in our family names Cops measuring our grave plots in candy canes [Verse 2: Hemlock Ernst] I motion to leave the party early But held down by my sleeves, it's like a mild birthing Pushing past the ledge to know I'm not free Wonder if they'll remember me? As something more than a centerpiece Or a choir boy for the simile For the four-fours, for the entropy Like the chorus was always a friend to me In migrant visions though -- my mind was a cash box Followed behind grandpa in black socks, wild at heart He smoking KOOLS, 'til the day of the locust -- moved Him barely unfocused -- blue, but when I concentrate I'm scary with truths Half-remembered from my ones and twos and fours of my past lives A pastor in knife fights, a ba*tard, a light brite I'm just babbling but what I found is our self-worth has been rooked The truth we pull from our subconscious Just won't read it in books [Hook] [Interlude: Busdriver] Don't you remember? Remember us Let me tell you about it Remember when we were radicals out there fanning them flames With a mouth full of reading and a tummy full of grain? Don't you remember? I was there with you It was different then We sung the old folklore, we sung the Goodlife hymns My n***a said this one, and I repeated it. It goes: [Hook 2] f** a cop, f** a cop He's ready to drop a cop f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop, he says f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop He's ready to do what you're ready do to but he's Ready to drop a cop [Verse 3] I wasn't ready to do it, I was studying music to make y'all pop your top Showing steady improvement, I calibrated every step of my awkward walk I'm off of the coverage I'm combing the undertow, “where are ya wonder crops” I'm celebrating all the over-medicated veterans indefinitely to have a better understanding Of General Lee, and how he felt about the universe and generally The same sentiment of bus unions, make havoc viewing blacks as sub-humans We don't get down like that, the criminal intent of how I act Got me discussing paramilitary tactics with a leftist weirdo on the census bureau The crackling kinetic energy around them French braids comes from the planet's furnace re-purposed For the hustle's various inertias I put the workers in burkas For the political Whirling Dervish My n***a free jazz's finances have overloaded them circuits It's tedious selling them inebriates for the CIA achievement list The edited gagged that failed Confederate flag draped over the petri dish I remember when I was oblivious, a tight wad with an iPod But then I got pulled over by them cops and got rolled up by the vice squad so I'm like f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop, like he said f** a cop, f** a cop We ready to drop them cops Down a few levels off our importance in society, n***a [Coda] Yeah Woah Goodlifers Los Angeles n***a I'm floating in the sky above everyone f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop f** a cop, f** a cop I'm ready to drop a cop Off the elemental table Disable all of them motherf**ers and hook them n***as up with a USB cable Right in they navel f** a cop, f** a cop [x2] Let me show you with teeth in my gun Let me show you with grief in my puns We were different then More in touch with each other We spoke more often We were more likely to go back home