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wire mother vs cloth mother

from Live from the Cave @ Dougman by Coolzey

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lyrics

If I'm really gonna make my money off rap
I gotta snap
Not like I really give a crap
But apparently I gotta get this sap
for my pancakes
A man makes a million mistakes
I am a hypocrite but so are you
So go jump in a lake
One thing I can say is that I am not a fake
For christ's sake
My take on a show is low
But I know and you know
That rap music isn't where you make your dough
You blow drugs and act thug
I think you suck
I can see you in the bathroom with your rubber duck
Playing with the suds
We could have been buds
but you took me for granted
Thought I had me some white guilt
Sorry B you got it slanted
Your only advantage is your bull-headed stubbornness
Go ahead and stick to the old
While I find new ways to govern this
I'm loving this job
Ha ha that's a macabre mantra
I come with twisted pleasures like the tantra
My garnish is cilantro
El Santo de la ridiculez
Coming with wickedness for chicken heads
and whoever the hell else wanna show up
It might blow up
I mean some shit we just throw up

And that's how we do it on fight night
I'm only spitting at the mic
with some shit my hand might write
Chinaski told me only to do it when there's a passion
But who asked him?
I love him but my river's flowing passed him
I'm not concerned
with whether or not I outlast him or her
I'm kinda down with whatever might occur
Might sight'll blur
and my tinnitus will keep ringing
But my man Gene Kelly and me
We keep singing
and playing baseball in the rain
to stay sane
Because this world is full of zombies
and they all want my brain so they can eat it
and I ain't into being mistreated
You try to kick that demon outta your house
but you still feed it
You don't need it
Tell it to beat it and scram
Pack up his little shit
and scurry back to the man
and his surrogate mother
who's made of metal and wire
and has no milk to give him
eventually he'll expire

credits

from Live from the Cave @ Dougman, released August 1, 2012
Zachary Lint - MPC-1000 and vocals
Brian Morrow - chorus vocals
Eugene Toale - saxophone

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Coolzey Fairfield, Iowa

Golden era hip-hop roots planted in black Iowa dirt are the foundation. Growth tempered by alternative era rock influence. This along with a love for the juxtaposition of the dark, horrific nature of life paired with a slapstick and comedic view of the world allow for a wide, unpredictable arsenal ranging from soul-spilling indie bedroom rock to wise-cracking battle rap and on to radio pop. ... more

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