Aesop Rock - Lazy Eye lyrics

(Super fresh) My spirit animal comes with a pretzel bun Troll of the treadmill Record on the Kessel Run (allegedly) Edgy from elevensies to megabucks Techies with the treble down This is how we level up Dead meat, time travel, pressure, and disease Ass ushered out of two fingers pecking at the keys The coping mechanism in his LMNOPs Went from healthy to unhealthy to a hell he never leaves Cineplex jesus, curse at the curly fries Mullin' over Chuck D, telling me, "Diversify" I'm at the SuperCuts supin' up the wardrobe Forecast looking like Ganesh on four phones "Hello, hello, hello, hello" Base camp, space camp Ba** in your face-f**, brace for the rain dance Back in the back of the cla**room After a magical nap in a vacuum Act natural, whatever that means for ya Whatever that means for ya Whatever that Ah (Fresh) Before climbing douchebag mountain, I was skate or die Started eatin' kale and came to terms with my lazy eye Puttin' on the yoga lady, cuttin' off the cable guy Whistle while you're waiting for your condition to stabilize AV cables everywhere, every piece of vinyl scratched Mentholated tiger balm, Aleve with the arthritis cap Irons in the niacin, iron choir riot masked Unabashed privacy expanding into simulcast 40 winks, never the same adventure Refreshing with a sing-a-long of stexicism ever In the end, gotta wonder if it's even worth the effort No stairways into heaven, you can step into the Escher Some people have mistaken my allegiance for a weakness It f**ed me up for eons, I wish there was a theist The type that fake his d**h then forget he faked his d**h Show up on TV, in the crowd at the AVNs, like... Act natural, whatever that means for ya Whatever that (Fresh) Sometimes I feel my heart putrefying inside my body From diary of the dark to piety in the ponzi On my better days and then mingle and walk off into the poppy On my worst, work is overshadowed by the monty Had to buy some clothes that fit me And pretend I like agave With a promise to his congress not to compromise the motley in him Maybe I should kinda sorta move to Mars I'm feeling kinda done, too many moving parts The piss poor vision is forty percent floaters The kitchen is a chorus of glorious leftovers The friends you confessed all the dark sh** to Would weaponize the information before we could send roses And they want a little pearl in how he got to where we at I can't remember where I am, I feel it's probably a trap Balk with the lawless, cough in his notes Walk on even when the walls hug his coat Oh and act natural, whatever that means for ya Whatever that means for ya Whatever that means for ya (Fresh)