shore I'm not controlled by a recessive gene I wore my impressor jeans Looking for the best of things Swimming in infested streams Taking advantage of big chested queens Busdriver
through nigger-shootin' at the general cinema But the self image is a mental enema Plus an exchange of gunfire Is more likely to kill your man Busdriver
Get on the bus (In the driver we trust) Hold on now (Hope we're going fast enough) You know the Blowed style (Hope we don't pass you up) [Busdriver]
[Busdriver] I'm just here to hold your hand when you die and to show you around Imaginary Places Putting many lumps on my bloody stump Edible habits
With long armpit hair Sticking out like a sore thumb, smelling like dinosaur dung These hippies are holier than thou at poorly attended peace marches
Hey.... Hey...Hey You did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Dress up you're dressed up to kill yourself Girl, I'm a
(with The Pulmonary Palimpsest) -(they paint their vulva) beige, bleed a cola keg, while i plan to ruin GOP motor cades. part these senseless zines
appearance? No! Want to hear some exclusive tracks? No! Damn, tough crowd. I thought they would always Touch clouds when I bust styles, but what now? What kind of name is Busdriver
Busdriver & Radioinactive: TOday's weather is a glazed beverage with a grave emphasis on the strange letter bridge and the dames we assist when we exchange
drink a Vodka shooter out of an antique auctioned luger, with a bunch of cranky cop recruiters. I offer the future in an office with a t-shirt that buttons up. Busdriver
Buy my posthumous full-length My colorfully packaged disembodied shriek Converted to ring tones used in car ads Sung by winged gnomes over the head of
Busdriver: I did that record before you And sure of course it was a tour de force Now you can afford a Porsche Go to the Source awards Get some tour support
It's the resurgence of the happy black rappers But now African medallions are handicap placards And we're alphabetized in the modernized retro And my
They want to hear good freestyling with sarcasm of Woody Allen Their parents own oil rigs They're just some spoiled kids who I must aim to please And
I know this group and they're so avantcore I bought their shit at the mom and pop store And I give all of their songs the top score I'll see them play
to care about Oh, busdriver where are we now? Busdriver, busdriver, I don't recognize this town Someone called me miles ago You must have heard the sound Busdriver, busdriver
*Speaking* "G'day, my name's Tony. On behalf of myself and the coachline I'd like to thank you for choosing to drive with us today. I'm a local, I hope
[Busdriver] I'm just here to hold your hand when you die and to show you around Imaginary Places Putting many lumps on my bloody stump Edible habits so
