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Dear Sirs
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El-P
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Dear Sirs
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If the pavement comes alive on Flatbush Ave with toothy smiles
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Comprised of traffic cones and manholes become eyes
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And birds burst into flames while singing Satan's praises
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And fold into the sky and rain down ashy danger
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If every office empties and all slaves walk in dazes
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To a pool of liquid money where they bathe blissfully naked
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And drugs no longer taunt me and flooze around my conscience
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And every woman beating rapist is securely in their coffins
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If every open hydrant in a Brooklyn time summer moment
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Is opened up by cops and folds out into an ocean
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And rent is paid by bread literally and parking isn't paid for
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And food stamps can be planted and childhoods can't be damaged
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If fire could power space ships that safely ship the creators
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Of dynamite and gun powder to the graves of all who faced it
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And the slurping nerf of bureaucrat life and bean counting slave owners
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Is twisted in on itself 'til they shave off their own faces
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If all the coke and crack in the nation is collected in a top hat
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And force fed to the children of every CIA agent
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And dust heads get an angel and an acres worth of rainbow
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And the projects turn to clouds and the stupid aren't so proud
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And the snivelling grimace mongrels of infected money
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Slobbing pesticrats ignite into a brilliant beam of light
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And mercy is the rule and the exception's mercy too
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And the desert comes in Brooklyn and the president goes to school
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Time flows in reverse, death becomes my birth
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Me fighting in your war is still, by a large margin
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The least likely thing that will ever fucking happen, ever
El-P - "The Full Retard" (Official Video...
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