Skinning the Drum - Themselves

Your cdj press play on the mix

Mine’s thumb drums with no sticks

Till callased of hand…

Blowing the glow off these computer canned bands

And step sequencer rembrants…

Dwarf kings of the ipod

On me-me-me, myself and iPod

Getting jive on the hi hat the volume knob

Blues you rob…

You soft hard…

You do job…

Jel does work

Yall all merch

And a manager’s claw

An 8th inch out, space bar

And we ain’t a-scared a yall…

We ain’t a-scared a yall

Pressing career on ears is small

Time in the one crush a what’s what…

And That’s how the sarcophagus shuts duck

Cause you can always get touched by the arrow of us…

Hey Jel, make it rock

See, on these machines he’s a natural

Meant for his actual gas station attendant bented

Collateral funded un drumming

Of something self taught and un-boughtable

All laudable thumbing

Of beating nothing to thumping from buttons

Fuck it, jel show them what’s up then…

Remember them old bones?

Now skin them right

Remember them old bones?

Now skin them right

Remember them old bones?

Now give them some light

There’s a fine line between

Who invented and who replenished it

Who infected it

And who protected it

Who perfected it

And who collected it

Then came correct with it

Ain’t your bag

So why drag it