Testing, testing

One!

Testing, testing

Two

-esting, testing

Chicka chicka chicka chick

Chicka chick chick,

Chicka chick

Testing, testing

Chicka chicka chicka

Testing, testing

Watt!

Testing, testing

Chicka chicka chick

Every body circling their work until their grave

All slaves in old shame, no saints to attain

No sane souls stayed, only clones remain

Only alone I go cause those are foes of gain

Show your face?

I show you the way out.

I go for broke and I don't need to strain to shout how you fucked yourself

Fuck your bull shit shut the shit down,

Fuck around, get a fist in your bitch of a mouth

This is a list of your doubts

We evict you now from your own house

Enough of the full of it, done with dumb clowns

No love in your whole clique

I summon the bowl rip

Let crumble your goal grip

I summit the stone tip

You suck with the tones, bitch

I'm coming for yours

They're loveing our sonars

You fumble with no bars

My home is in the stars

But I roam and I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

And I roam

Roam, roam, roam, dididi roam

Ah

"Is this your secret to staying warm?"

"No. I have no secrets.

I'm mad, I have to go to work,

I have to earn a living.

I'd rather have a private income

And get laid, well and often"

"Would you be a musician if nobody ever heard you?"

"Sure!"

"Why?"

"Because I love music. It's in my head I can't get it out."

"And you're listening."

"Yeah."

"You're hearing it yourself."

"I hear it now."

They're lovein our sonars

You fumble with no bars

My home is in the stars

But I have an apartment on mars

Too

Are you

Gonna keep on talking wack?

You'd be smart to

Shut your trap when I yap

Cuz I have the slappin raps

That can crack numb skulls

Back to back

It'd be Tat for tat.

You lack in fact

Your wit is so lazy

Your will is tapped

Your still attached

To a missing match

I will attack you

With a switch or bat

If you ask

To fit the graph

Your culture ain't kosher

It is shit on a shaft

Missed me, HA!

These licks is phat

The spit you spat

Is fricking trash

You're Christmas casserol to this and that

We'll skin your fat to make a dish and dash

Mish mash, your lips lack the same skills mine have

I might snap and slide back into my homicidal habbits

Everything I have, you wanna grab it

But its actually stached in the realms of magic

Its automatic how fanatically I rattatatat it

And you lack it like the lacquer in my attic

I'm glad it- made you mad

That means I do it right

You blather so bad

That you're losing the fight

I do it till I die

Loosening your blinds

Shooting at the sky

With a bullet you can't buy

Bullet you can't buy

I be shooting at the sky with a bullet you can't buy.

"Music is a very high level art.

We try everyday.

If you play one next note,

That's wrong.

Or if you play one hair earlier,

It's wrong.

Music life is very hard.

So what we do is every day,

Technically

You must go up up up.

Very high

We never reach that

So we try,

You know we challenge

Let's do better next time."