Boombox Lyrics - Aesop Rock

Raw, I'm going to give it to you 

With no trivia 

Raw like that Aesop rock iron-fisted list militia 

While bent funny bone grown community 

Spit a thousand and 1 ripples to cripple the continuity 

Tap water builds character 

Right I irrigate it straight to mainline 

You want to do the same? Fine 

These pretty profit grommet teams solidify the clot to slippery city salt piston pump drain 

But hold those incredible console with the Russian roulette baboon spin-off 

Where everyday a thousand strangers pray for empty chambers 

One-sixth buckle 

Five Sixths sweat bullets trying to keep it subtle 

But I'll get you (I'm going to get you) 

Wobbly rope bridge 

Broke inches tired of dry land 

But duck skull stepping-stones suit the mix-down well 

Well, when the rumor spreads that y'all stupid 

I'll be the cat with guilty look on face and shirt that reads: I didn't do it! 

Is it on, is it beyond basic 

Does it ice grill you or is every song faceless? 

Does it have a title? If didn't would you name it? 

Does it babble about nothing like a drunken atheist? 

We could run that Orwells '84 war 

For the room 101 z-tour 

Till he try and fidgets with his or her own worst fear specifics 

Swerve around the cobra kisses 

See if the venom overloads this vision 

I'm going to suck the poison out and spit it 

Stole my sneakers but your feet just never fit in 

Servers you right for trying to walk a mile outside your limits 

I'm going to tiptoe across this yo-yo string 

Until you walk the dog out from under my feet and skip town, sit down 

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(Chorus) 

It goes boom boom boom 

Boombox 

Photos 

Earth to a-r vertical burden has increased at an alarming rate 

Bliss is down a point 

Murder up, glee down and still falling 

Still crawling out of bed at 2 on Saturdays 

Came this blind soldier-burning confessional 

Ease back; let a heart thump echo normalcy for 10 

Let the back burner boiling point descend 

I race the derby in the first heat (strike personal) 

Strike personal space with the most utterly putrid version of grace 

Spit the gimmick, sit and fidget 

While we try and jump through hoops 

Like Coney Island freak show midgets 

Want to be a fighter pilot 

Driving that childish early Wright brothers experiment 

Prototypic model fossil 

Sit and sweat bullets on a console 

Busting accidental dirt bike donuts 

Outside the most ridiculous poison tongue brain silo 

Dead before the chubby debutaunt conquered the high note 

Schooled by the cruel intention inventions pensive sideshow 

See contrary to popular certainty 

I alone advance without an earthly poem 

And dance on a handful of zoning fans 

Holding every chance to own the land I roam 

With dome in hands 

Truly be its only camper happy with the scrap heap 

See I convinced myself it's on 

Therefore it is and the melody settles 

Beneath the fact that I'm just spitting for these kids 

I tried to get them all open 

And once I quit and said I didn't care 

I swear they all threw their hands up in the air 

(Chorus) 

It goes boom boom boom 

Boombox