Baba Brinkman, Noa Bodner - Art of Seduction lyrics

Won’t you please
Come dance with me I’ll take you to a fantasy
Land, and play the Tambourine Man, see
That’s the meanin’ of MC we
Take you to the Jamboree
Move the crowd, make 'em clap and sing
I might hold hands and write
Poems to romance the beat
But, I’m just lookin’ for my chance to skeet
The art of seduction is my lyrical function
With just the right pressure applied
Plus the subtle suction
Mutually assured destruction
Usually comes from two suicidal sides
Chasin’ the little death
Makin’ the benefit's equally distributed
I’m feelin’ crazy generous
I’m givin’ a little bit you’re
Takin’ a little bit
And that’s the story of the
Stork makin’ a little kid
We’re not finished yet
Though this is just the intro
The slow tyin’ of both your
Wrists to the bed-posts
I might let you get close
But I’ll never let you slip
Over the edge of the precipice
Unless you twist
Your limbs into pretzel sticks as
If possessed it’s just
How I get you all ready for the exorcist
Writhing in a web of your weaving
I'll be begging for some release
Either tie me up and torture and tease me
Until I'm please, d, or set me free

It’s the lull that anticipates
The next great crescendo
The slow hesitation as I penetrate the tempo
Inseminate the instrumental with the lingo
Disseminate the info to make extra kinfolk
And get every listener wetter than a Diplo-
Dochus so get your sweaty
Hands out your pockets
Unless you’ve got to keep them
Occupied to get off it’s
Nothin’ to be ashamed of
A little game of pocket pool
A little stimulation of your
Own personal molecules
But what I’m out to do though
Is save you from your solitude
It’s really nothin’ that’s all
You’ve got to lose
It’s the rap mad professor takin’
Back your lack of pleasure
And replacin’ half-measures with
Some jackrabbit exercises
Surprisin’ mattress impact testers
‘Cause every threshold they invent
Is bad guesswork
Sack the fact-checkers for the limit's
They be makin’ up
When I’m makin’ love there ain’t
Records to break enough
Space I’m takin’ up vibrates with the drums
So I’m a slave to the funk
And you’re my co-inhabitant
I tried to amputate it but
It kept growin’ back again
You know what happens
Then: extreme insistence
Resistance just seems to increase persistence
For instance
I’ve got the steam for the pistons
And if you’re listening then you
Can’t keep your distance
‘Cause, I’m already makin’ deep imprints
With my fingertips in your neo-cortex
Like a doctor who delivers
A fetus with forceps
I’ve got a grip that lets
You just reach to vortex
As sensory deprivation gets treated
With raw sex
Or it's lyrical equivalent, so here I go
I’m givin’ in to every sinful sensation I’ve
Ever been tempted with
So share a pillow with
Me in blissful emptiness
Writhing in a web of your weaving
I'll be begging for some release
Either tie me up and torture and tease me
Until I'm please, d, or set me free