Pigs
[Verse 1]Sharks in the dunk tank, vipers in the gardenLocusts stole the groceries out the local Farmer's MarketAll God's critters hold positionsSome are violent, some are victimsEach alive is an equal and vital piston I supportSo when the piranhas honor New YorkMy daddy long legs dangled and mangled for sportAnd while I bring in every dink in the kingdom with open wingsIt all boils down to them shit-soaked pigsThe pigs, the pigs, the dregs of what y'all aim forThe gluttonous muddy stomachs under the pudgy cakeholeTwo-track braniac using the food and payrollTo chew up and consume every cookie, crumb, and pesoAnd place a cloven hoof on the lucrative when convenientAs the bourbon-odor smokers' coughs smolder off the CohibaIf Noah had the benefit of hindsight on his shipHe could've snatched two unicorns and left behind the motherfucking...
[Hook 1]Pigs!God damn... pigs!Potbelly... pigs!Punch-drunk... pigs!Take money, money... pigs!Loudmouth... pigs!Wide load... pigs!Let's make a deal...
[Verse 2]When all the wolves in woolly wigsHave huffed, and puffed, and blew the bricksThe skulls of Brooklyn's cruelest pigsWill rain on Fulton's newest kicksAs mulish swine of all surrounding counties sniff the gruesomenessWe pass around the pineapples and pull the pins in unisonI will gladly feed you to the breed who wants you sacrificedNo pagan or sacrilege, just bacon for scavengersI will gladly seat you with the chickens, not the passengersHopefully the crack in his armor spreads to his avariceNever that, Wilburs multiply quicker than triplesAnd hunt their truffles in fistfuls, but it was all bells and whistlesBougie this and Bougie that...War pig or pussy cat...Glitzy to the pork ribs, had to gold-leaf the booby trapsPowder-pink, double-breasted, mess of mud and moneyWaddle off the fire to make his stubborn tummy wroggleAnd while I don't really know the working details of your tribesI know that that's one ugly fucking tieAsshole...
[Hook]
[Verse 3]Apple in his mouth, Maraschino eyesParty like the butcher boy's cleaver is aliveI mosey into sixteen hours of smoke in the misty winterTo see the county fair's blue ribbon winner as dinnerThen dance until the sun has kissed your blisters in the morningAs the misery was dormant and digging in crispy portionsCorporates want to lure him in and whore him. Or does he whore the corparates to expand the more important forums for himPush the mortar pestle past the ordinary orchardWhen the frilly border's faded is the product mine or yours, pig?Mine, plus I toss a token where I go:Directly to the worms who shovel shit and yellow snowThis little piggy went to the market with a targetAnd will subsequently know the armor-piercing forks of farmersFinal words for the finer birds taking notes:I dig a chick in pig tails, "That's all Folks!"
[Hook]