[Intro]
Swear to God this is better than anything on television
Why can't we go to a movie?
A movie?! That's not real. It's the same as television. Trust me. This is real. This is my neighborhood
[Verse One]
Inside my head I'm a heady hotshot who's got pretension potshots
Hitting below the belt like crotch shots
I walk a lot and if I got a pack pipe I stop a lot
Under bridges
I discharge empty lighters and fidget with books of matches
In back alleyways I'll sit on soiled mattress
I ain't one of those that has to roll with a gaggle
Or a grip to trip over train tracks
I swear I seen Fraggles and Doosers in my travels through the odd scrabble areas
Where police cruisers induce the boosers to walk straight lines
As they roll by slowly
And nod in my direction like they know me
So I spy a pile of lumber
Plundering, I pillage a stick and think about a white man's privilege
Sick to my stomach
I become the batter, rocks become balls and a window gets shattered
Shards fall and scatter but so do I
And now I'm sprinting at full tilt it feels like flying
[Interlude]
God I love this street. Ha ha
The only little white man telling me where to cross streets is me
Whistling off key and off beat
Often it gives these six fools with their feet frozen to the curb
The urge to [?] the lights before they turn
By which time I'm on my way deturbed and disturbed
At the ma** mentality like herd
But I won't be domesticated and in turn defeated
So when I'm on city cameras I pick my nose and eat it
It's how I greet those who watch [?] stories of others
Slacks have them so heated
That they needed to turn the AC up to ten
Drop to my feet to tie my laces when it's condensation
Drip onto my forehead then beat it with my sweat
I feel cheated by the city
It's cars choke me and it's building spit on me
So I get on it
Instead of letting it get on me
And it's like
He think he can do it, but where's the proof?
You'll never know unless you actually climb that roof
They might think you're a punk or a goof
With one hoof on the dumpster, pulling yourself up like "oof"
Don't sweat the scratch that you put in that car
Who'da thunk you could throw that rock that far?
But f** it if anyone asks if you know who did this
Just grimace and reply "Ehh, no english."
And when you're at those malls check those unmarked doors
You might find a place you never ever been before
Like the day they almost caught Mr. Pink Gitch in a store room
At the Forks, scoring supplies for his kitchen
I know it's mad cheesy and it might sound cornball
But there's a whole city out there to explore y'all
And it's yours and it's mine and they'll call it a crime
If you're behind somebody else's property line
And the next thing you know they have designer landmines
Designed to blow off these two hands of mine
But until then I'ma climb this lamp post
Clowning my friends from up high as I ham and post
[Hook]
It's like climb everything, the city could be ours
Climb everything, start by flipping over cars
Climb everything it might be just what you need
And the next thing we'll work on is tearing up their deeds
Climb everything just to see what's up there
One time, me and Yy, found ourselves a lawn chair
He tossed it down from the roof and I hauled it home
You gotta climb everything cause you never ever know
[Scratching]
"Out on the town"