Aesop Rock - Pigs lyrics

Ay whats this fuckin' guy doing?
What are you doing?
Right now, what are you doing?
What are you doing? Yuh yes sir (Yep)
Put change sh-put change in his cup
(Oh can you play it wi-with the other guitar)
Weatherman (I like this one)
What's that weirdo with the fucking kazoo?
Ay

Sharks in the dunk tank, vipers in the garden
Locusts stole the groceries out
The local Farmer's Market
All God's critters hold positions
Some are violent, some are victims
Each alive is an equal and
Vital piston I support
So when the piranhas honor New York
My daddy long legs dangled
And mangled for sport
And while I bring in every dink


In the kingdom with open wings
It all boils down to them shit-soaked pigs
The pigs (what) , the pigs (what)
The dregs of what y'all aim for
The gluttonous muddy stomachs under
The pudgy cakehole
Two track braniac using the food and payroll
To chew up and consume every cookie, crumb
And peso and place a cloven hoof on
The lucrative when convenient
As the bourbon-odor smokers' coughs
Smolder off the Cohiba
If Noah had the benefit of
Hindsight on his ship
He could've snatched two unicorns and
Left behind the motherfucking

Pigs! God damn pigs!
Potbelly pigs! Punch-drunk pigs!
Take money, money pigs! Loudmouth pigs!
Wide load pigs! Let's make a deal

When all the wolves in woolly wigs
Have huffed, and puffed, and blew the bricks
The skulls of Brooklyn's cruelest pigs
Will rain on Fulton's newest kicks
As mulish swine of all surrounding
Counties sniff the gruesomeness
We pass around the pineapples and
Pull the pins in unison
I will gladly feed you to the
Breed who wants you sacrificed
No pagan or sacrilege
Just bacon for scavengers
I will gladly seat you with the chickens
Not the passengers
Hopefully the crack in his armor
Spreads to his avarice never that
Wilburs multiply quicker than tribbles
And hunt their truffles in fistfuls
But it was all bells and whistles
Bougie this and Bougie that
War pig or pussy cat
Glitzy to the pork ribs
Had to gold leaf the booby traps
Powder-pink, double-breasted
Mess of mud and money
Waddle off the fire to make
His stubborn tummy wroggle
And while I don't really know the
Working details of your tribes
I know that that's one ugly fucking tie
Asshole

Pigs! God damn pigs!
Potbelly pigs! Punch-drunk pigs!
Take money, money pigs! Loudmouth pigs!
Wide load pigs! Let's make a deal

Apple in his mouth, Maraschino eyes
Party like the butcher boy's cleaver is alive
I mosey into sixteen hours of
Smoke in the misty winter
To see the county fair's blue
Ribbon winner as dinner
Then dance until the sun has kissed
Your blisters in the morning
As the misery was dormant and
Divvied in crispy portions
Corporates want to lure him in and
Whore him or does he
Whore the corparates to expand the
More important forums for him
Push the mortar pestle past
The ordinary orchard
When 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 snow
This little piggy went to the
Market with a target
And will subsequently know the
Armor-piercing forks of farmers
Final words for the finer birds taking notes:
I dig a chick in pig tails
"That's all Folks!"

Pigs! God damn pigs!
Potbelly pigs! Punch-drunk pigs!
Take money, money pigs! Loudmouth pigs!
Wide load pigs! Let's make a deal