Toro y Moi
Fettucini
[Verse 1: Kool A.D.]
This is it, what, fettucini falling to the plate
Nice mover, my files X like Malcolm
Out the window with the Swisher Sweet
Paradise Lost like [?] tossed out
Salad like the days where we had less
Shruggy Atlas, sleeping on a cutty mattress
Make money money, take funny money tactics
Flip them from the cellar to the attic
Selling to the sellers and the addicts
Soak game, bed wetter than a hat trick
If you want to send a letter better get the address
Fresher when I step into the palace
Feathery and lavish, energy and magic
Legwork centipede status
Head jerk getting key tragically, hip hop into shit
I should stop it but I don’t want to quit
See how we keep the marijuana lit
I’ma get as high as I wanna get
Don’t it seem so sweet, like the lie from a honest lip?
We hide from promised whips
Freedom is a prize and an agnonishment
Oops, I mean admonishment
Keep your eyes on the monuments
Follow as I ride in astonishment
Stare into the sky’s wild promises
See how your pride slips comically
Down to the spot where you see the shoe polish sit
No matter how much you get
You still can’t get all of it
And who would even want all of that?
Every spot you haunt will haunt you back
What you want beyond stacks? Look upon the lawns beyond that
See how the grass is green, mami guap mean but her ass is meaner
Word to Victor Vazquez Sr
See me in the traffic saying “Bitch I really wish you would crash this Bim”
[Verse 2: Amaze 88]
Yeah
Thoughts arranged by the Dangler
Surrounded by 99 strangers, hovering over banisters
Peering piercing eyes, watching the canister
Filled with nuggets and gems
Dug up with the Netherlands hands
Gripped so hard, tin don’t seem so tough
The price is mine, or what it seems to be
Climb out, climb up reach through to see
Come to find out those eyes were filled with pity
Filled with laughter that turned teary
Those gems, those nuggets, were only worth what I gave it
I could save it for a hundred years and still couldn't sling them
Dirt, gold, [?] gems, precious to me
But nothing to them, so where to go from here?
I don’t know, but I’ll have a beer, think twice
And I’ll spend two years working on something
That's not worth nothing more than two pairs of dirty socks
To mop the floor at the local grocery store
Thirty years plus more, that's what I’m headed for
Damned if I do, damned if I don't
Win the lottery, read Chuck Bukowski's anthology
And maybe take a trip to some remote place
Where I can play out my childhood fantasies
Metal detector inspector, anti-tragic tragedy
Turned on its head to be called an epic voyage of a man that believed