TRACK FOURTEEN
SUN-TZU [Prod. Illinformed]

Look around,
He was the butcher in a crooked sound hooked into a booker that was shushing in a sugar cloud,
He’d be snookered into cooking in his wooden gown, looking like a hoodlum, it was pudding for this wooded town,
She had put us into booklets of her bullish nouns, shouldn’t frown, she was pulling goodness from this crooked crown,
It’s the woman that had pushed him into hooded clowns, fully drowned in the woody goodness of a bullet sound

Lost in mazes,
He was adopted by agnostic racists, cosmic places tossed into the frosting of his foster’s glazing,
He had lost it in the Costa when they offered placing Oscars for his pondering of consciousness in hostage pages,
Through the optics of his toxic-ness he squandered ages, prospered into the ominousness, tossed into the toxin’s traces,
It’s hypnotic how psychotic and chaotic Rage is, costing him a comet for the sonics of exotic stasis

Front tooth on a bunned zoot,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala
Sun-Tzu to you bum crews,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala

Front tooth on a bunned zoot,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala
Sun-Tzu to you bum crews,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala

This’ll eat me,
He would piss graffiti on a missile treaty, little creepy as it’s sizzled, whistled to a gristled specie,
They whisked a genie that was drizzled on the shrivelled 3-D riddle that would cripple, it was tripled as a fizzled freebie,
He risked a chisel that initialled his official CV, civil as he swivelled to the ripples in his little TV,
He was fickle in his pickling of whistles, greasy trickles of a sickle and the tickle of a sizzled CD

Born a sinner,
He was reforming as a tortured winner, ordered dinner on a warm porcelain supporter’s liver,
It was dawning that disorders would deform him quicker, sorting inner organs in a warming to importing liquor,
He was yawning from the boring of performing sicker, courting the reformist of his jaundice as he’s swarming Twitter,
He would pause as the conformists would assault his bitter forfeiting of normal in a sprawling of this awful critter

Front tooth on a bunned zoot,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala
Sun-Tzu to you bum crews,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala

Front tooth on a bunned zoot,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala
Sun-Tzu to you bum crews,
When I come through, spitting that lalalalalala