I feel phenomenal as usual
Pharmaceuticals, glue sniffin’, pools of vomit at Bonnaroo
But I don’t know if I’m in Tennessee, Chicago, or Houston
In the corner tryin’ to seek solitude
Shallow but such a hollow dude
I won’t even swallow solid food
Alcoholic too, plus I’m on lean like the Tower of Pisa
Top it off I’m on mushrooms, so fuck all of you!
Roses are violet, mollies are blue
Lost in a ball of confusion, it’s all an illusion
It’s probably the shrooms I’m on
‘Cause I think I started hallucinating, ’cause I just thought I heard Jay Electronica and Odd Future’s new shit
And all I could do was follow the music
And end up with Paula Abdul at Lollapalooza
Fillin’ water balloons with nail-polish remover
Just to pop ’em and wallow in fumes
I feel uptight, I gotta get looser
After I finish polishing off this bottle of booze I got a solution
Concentrated like orange juice, so I’m not as deluded
‘Cause all this delusion got me seein’ shit
Excusez-moi, but that hoochie that passed
You see her ass? Wouldn’t make her my main squeeze
Butt juicier, ass, it belongs in a juicer
It’s mouth-waterin’ too
So I walked over to her, like, “I’m Marshall
Wanna try to meet my standards? I’ll introduce ya”
Oh, I’m a misogynist too, but I’m not a masseuse
But my attitude is rubbin’ off on the youth, uh!
Chronic abuser, and I don’t mean a user of marijuana
I mean verbal assault that I use to smoke all of you losers
Got a bazooka, a shotgun, a Ruger, a Glock, and a nuke
And a Rottweiler too, and I’m not in the mood, so
When I say I’m bringing the TEC out
I’m not coming to repair your fuckin’ electronic computers
God, I’m gonna puke, I’m so gone off the hookah
I think I swallowed a loofah
I’m tore up, demolished, I’m fuckin’ stoned like Oliver
Like I looked Medusa in the eyeball to seduce her
The thoughts I produce are loony tunes
The box of reusable latex gloves and the socks and the shoes
That were placed next to Veronica’s boobs
And the paycheck stubs that were stuffed in the glove box
In a blue Honda with used condoms were clues
The girl was just not the one suitable for him

Right for me, (that will) change me
Rearrange my head to be
Just right for you and me
Don’t laugh, please listen to me

Thought I’d give in to the pressure
Collapse and crumble perhaps, relapsing under that
Well, that’s a bunch of crap
In the clutch, I’m the Captain Crunch of rap
And I’m sick of acting humble, that’s enough of that
Fuck that shit, cut the sack
Like it’s a natural reaction
That’s why I’m actually trapped in this shoving match
‘Cause push keeps coming to that
I can keep getting my ass kicked and coming back
Like a sarcastic crumpled sack of shit, still mad
Disgruntled, had some struggles, yeah
But that passion and hunger’s back
What a fantastic juggling act!
And the way I flip my tongue on the track
It’s like verbal acrobatics, but in fact
Last time I tried to pull off a dramatic stunt as drastic
I fuckin’ crashed my hovercraft
After I strapped a duffel bag to my back
And stuffed a massive punchin’ bag in it
And an elastic bungee strap, rubber, plaster, a thumb tack
And a piece of plastic bubble wrap
Went spastic and fuckin’ snapped
Jumped and splashed in a puddle of battery acid
Stumbled back, recovered, back flipped
And landed on a gymnastic tumble mat
And for my last trick, lunge on back
Latch on a NASA shuttle flap, fuckin’ snap the rudder in half
Chuckled and laughed, utter my last rebuttal
And just as I’m to come crashin’
I grab my Go-Go-Gadget inflatable gigantic humongous mattress and ceramic construction hat
Rub my magic mushroom tat
For luck, then splat, get up from that
Face taped to a waste paper basket
Throw up, then gasp, lungs collapsed
And that’s more likely than finding someone that’s…

Right for me, (that will) change me
Rearrange my head to be
Just right for you and me
Don’t laugh, please listen to me

Couple of shots of Jäger
Public intoxication, dis-fuckin’-combobulation
Flooded with thoughts of anger
While I was away I know probably some of you got to thinkin’
“You’re top ten, ain’t you?”
Stop it, you fuckers are talkin’ crazy
And stop interrupting, you’re not even up in that conversation
Whether you’re punchin’ a clock or famous
Underground, pop, or nameless
Whatever your job is, I give a fuck what’s your occupation
You’re thinkin’ just ’cause you came in with scrubs
And you brought the scalpel and sponge
The oxygen tank and the suction and shot the brain surgeon
Stuck in the operating room
Once you done swapped your name with him
Smuggled in Ronald Reagan
If you dug him up; Donald Fagen
While juggling waffles, bacon
A fuckin’ McDonald’s egg and cheese sausage bagel finagled it
Flung it across the table
Then bump it and knock it shake it
Jumped and got in the way, then disrupted my concentration
I said fuck it and lost my patience
They all woke up from sedation
Ain’t none of you Dr. Dre, so then what is it got you thinkin’
You can fuck with this operation?!
(Aftermath) Still running hip-hop amazin’
I’m still pluggin’ along
No need for an assumption, here’s confirmation
I’m up for the long duration
I’m just looking for something to walk away with
Some pocket change and a little integrity
Though I’ll probably be jumpin’ across the stage
‘Til I’m fuckin’ Madonna’s age and
Stuck in an awkward place in my life
But I shit you not like I’m plugged up with constipation
That day will come
Before I finally stumble upon some lady that’s…

Right for me, (that will) change me
Rearrange my head to be
Just right for you and me
Don’t laugh, please listen to me